Providence Waits
by Scarper Von Hyde
Summary: A mind controlling Meta bursts onto the scene, bringing chaos and death, yet bringing our favorite hero and villain closer than ever before.
1. Who is the Flash?

Professor Candice Providence was not a believer in the afterlife. She did not believe in God, or any other deities. She was a believer in absolutes, Mathematics, Physics and other forms of science. The closest she ever came to believing in a 'higher power' was when she witnessed purposeful genetic mutation for the first time. The white lab rat had had it's DNA spliced with genetic markers that caused bioluminescence in Jellyfish, transferring the 'ability' to its new host. A glowing lab rat, Actually glowing. Candice was fascinated. Her job at MERCURY Labs may have been the medical application of nanotech, but every moment of her spare time was spent hunting down each scrap of information currently available on genetic manipulation.  
She was a woman obsessed.  
The day of the particle accelerator explosion she had been visiting the labs residential counselor due to her 'unethical approach to human testing'. There wasn't anything she had done wrong, at least in her mind. If people didn't want to be tested on, they shouldn't leave their food or drinks unattended in the break room fridge overnight.  
Counselor Mark had been working with hypnosis therapy in finding the reason for patients behavior. First building a hypothetical scenario, building on the characters, then letting the patient interact with the people and places they 'saw'. It was groundbreaking work and considered life changing. At least it was.  
Until the blast of dark matter from the accelerator tore through his mind, ripping his conscious and memories from his body and forcing all of them into the already psychotic Professor Candice Providence.  
An unstable combination of obsession, super high intelligence and the ability to force people into a fantasy world of which she had complete control over was a deadly force to be reckoned with. Her need to experiment was great and she found herself working on stray animals, building up to homeless people, lost children and tourists. Whispers of the *things* she made floated about in the darkness of night. Whispers of monster animals and people with a hunger for blood and flesh. She felt such power. She felt like a God. She felt a power that she would willingly kill for.  
Her laboratory was always full of new bodies, the people in them trapped in their own minds, captive to her each and every whim. The ones she kept with her. Her 'guards'… they were not something to be thought too long about. Twisted creatures with useless limbs and strange bone protrusions, trapped in their own minds, slaves to her every wish. Her success rate was quite low. At first. Just a handful survived, and the bodies of those who didn't, well, they were never found. The ones that did survive took care of them.  
She was content with her findings. She was happy with her current research until she saw her first Meta-human in action. People with the powers of Gods? Beautiful. Absolutely divine. Unique. And so strong. So quick to heal from her little experiments. Perfect little lab rats. She had to have one.  
For nine months she sat in her laboratory, manipulating the human genome, splicing animal to human, Meta-human to animal, warping the description of life.

Divinity. The creatures she created served her every whim. Complacent in their tasks, not knowing the true weight of their decisions. Those that disobeyed were destroyed. Those that obeyed her were given free reign of the night and all of its precious bounty.

The creatures she created served her every whim. Complacent in their tasks, not knowing the true weight of their decisions. Those that disobeyed were destroyed. Those that obeyed her were given free reign of the night and all of its precious bounty.  
She was quite content with her findings. Until she saw the Flash. Such speed and strength. Pure poetry in motion. Imagine what she could do with that speed. Her creatures would rule. She would be a God. The flame of obsession rekindled and she set her sights on Central City's own Scarlet Speedster.

*Providence Waits*

Barry was currently in a heated battle with a few members of the Rogues, Golden Glider, Captain Cold and Heat Wave, trying to keep them from escaping with the latest shipment of silver from Central City Jewelers. What jewelry company casts their own metal in this day and age? Hadn't they heard of outsourcing? Why go after silver and not diamonds? Who really understands the motives of the criminal class?  
A blast of ice passed less than a foot away from Barry's face. "Dammit Cold," Barry snapped, skidding to a dramatic halt. "Are you trying to kill me?" He continued speaking in a scant whisper, obviously infuriated by the crime he was being forced to thwart.  
"Relax scarlet," Captain Cold drawled, sending another blast Barry's way. "I never miss."  
Barry continued to mutter under his breath, "fuck my life, the damn Arrow never has to deal with this kind of shit, what did I do to deserve this?"  
Cold stared incredulously at the speedster. Seriously? Was he really talking to himself right now?  
"Stupid Grodd, damn gorillas, why is this my life now? Damn League of Assassins, damn Rogues Gallery," Barry continued, raising his voice in volume and not paying any mind to the trio staring at him or his team talking in his comm. "Fuck Star City, stupid fucking Gideon and self-fulfilling prophecy."  
Snart blinked in confusion behind the reflective goggles. "Are we still fighting or what?" He stopped talking when he realized Barry wasn't going to stop his angry rant anytime soon. He holstered the cold gun and removed his goggles. "Look scarlet, if you need a moment don't let us stop you," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The entire time the speedster was ranting, Glider and Heat Wave continued loading the getaway van with crates of looted silver.  
"I'm fine," Barry grumbled, "just tired of all this bullshit, fuck it all." Tapping into the Speed Force, he quickly removed all of the plundered silver and sped the criminals who were loading it into the front seats of the van which they soon drove off in. He sighed loudly and turned away once he was back in place, speaking into his comm. "Cisco, I'm done here, going dark." He switched off the comm and turned back to Cold. "Are we done here? I haven't slept right all week and really don't want to deal with your criminal bullshit right now."  
"Fine scarlet, we're done here," Snart paused dramatically. "For now."  
"Let me know it there's a *real* issue," he said as he pushed past Cold and sped off.  
The sharp clicking of high heels grabbed Captain Cold's attention and the sound of a slow clap soon followed. "That went well," a new, feminine, voice sneered. "You lost the loot, your team ditched you and the Flash left with no fight, that's no fun is it? Not fun at all."  
Cold drew his gun in one motion, searching the shadows for the voices owner. "And who might you be," he asked, preparing to shoot at the first sign of movement.  
"An interested party," the interloper's voice said. "Not interested in you of course." A figure stepped out of the shadows. A woman, early thirties, dark hair, dark eyes, an easily forgettable appearance were it not for the psychotic grin marring her otherwise plain face. She leered and stared over her horn-rimmed glasses. "The Flash is quite unique." Staring Snart straight in the eye she continued speaking. "You will help get him for me, won't you?" Her voice seemed to reverberate from every surface rendering Cold immobile. The woman turned on her heel and began to walk away.  
"Now follow me, my dear Captain, for Providence waits."

*Providence Waits*

Hell.  
Leonard Snart was in Hell, there's no other word for this place. He doesn't know how long he's been here, but all he can see or hear are the faces and voices of everyone he ever cared about, all asking the same question.  
"Who is the Flash?"  
So he walked through the hellscape, red the only color he saw. Red sands, red sky, red sun, and the constant voices. And he walked on, never answering the question, knowing this was the only way. And he walked on. He knew it wasn't real, at least he hoped it wasn't real.  
Alone in a darkened laboratory a cold man walked through the fires of his mind, silently protecting the identity of the Flash. He made a promise that he wouldn't tell anyone, and he never breaks his word. Professor Providence sighed daintily, her hand resting on one of her creations. She needed the Flash. Her creations needed the Flash. "No matter," she murmured. "If Captain Cold won't give up the Flash, I'll make the Flash give himself up."  
Snart's hellscape shifted towards darker themes, from simple physical harm of the few people he cared for, to the pure destruction of their souls. His greatest fears came to life in scenarios worse than what he could have ever imagined. Heists gone wrong, misfiring the cold gun, rogue Meta-humans, and the worst, the one he knew was impossible but still filled him with dread. The reappearance of his dead father.  
Still, he walked on, knowing he had only one the option. He couldn't reveal the Flash's identity. Yet the question 'who is the Flash' repeated through his mind until the whirring figures in the red stopped.  
"Who is Barry Allen?" That voice seemed so familiar. Captain Cold stopped where he stood as the voice continued. "He is quite prominent in your mind, but there is no story behind the name. Just a name and face." Around him, the world faded to white, the red hues falling away and revealing the woman from the heist. "So tell me Cold," she stepped forward menacingly. "Who is Barry Allen?"  
Snart stood his ground, not moving back. "Barry Allen is none of your concern. Nobody of interest."  
A vicious grin spread across the woman's face. "Really now? I wouldn't be so sure about that." A low growl rumbled under her words, and her shadow rose up off the ground taking the form of some kind of beast. "You see Cold, I can control everything in your lovely little brain right now, and I can, and will, make you tell me." The creature lumbered forwards towards Cold as the woman stepped aside. "So last chance before this gets ugly. Who is Barry Allen?"  
Snart stumbled backward as the misshapen creature moved towards him, the snarling beast moved with a speed unbefitting its size. Demonic red eyes followed his every movement and paws equipped with heavy talons swiped at each opportunity. Expanses of white lay in every direction, and so Snart ran, hoping to put some distance between himself and that thing the woman had brought with her. "There's nowhere to run Captain, your mind is my toy." With each step, more and more space was put between himself and that woman, but that creature she had brought was still following, heavy footfalls growing closer and closer.  
In the darkened lab Professor Providence smiled sadistically. Cold has a weakness, she thought. Now then, who is Barry Allen?

*Providence Waits*

Cisco and Barry had been sitting in the Cortex for a few hours now, talking about nothing, trying to take their minds off of what had happened in Starling City. A new Vertigo dealer had cropped up, trying to perfect the formula, making it exponentially more addictive. And much more deadly. The Arrow had called in a favor from Team Flash after a few dozen deaths from the drug had occurred. It was an easy enough case, more CSI work than Flash work, but it still showed that people would do desperate things just to get high.  
Barry was loath to admit it, but the stress from the past week was getting to him. Running back through time. The time wraith. Non-evil Hartley. That and the fact that Harry was on some sort of mission trying to track down Jesse. Barry was just glad he could count on Cisco to be there whenever he needed someone to talk to. A random question jerked him out of his musings.  
"What do you think would happen if you used rollerblades at super speed?"  
Barry turned in his seat and stared incredulously at Cisco. "What," he said blankly.  
"Or how about a pogo stick?!"  
"No," Barry stated flatly. "No, bad idea."  
Cisco just kept talking, "oh, I know!" He was spinning in his seat excitedly, "speed hula-hoop!" Cisco unwrapped the twelfth sucker and continued his rambling, "what about super speed biking? Would it shatter? Would you phase through it? Or just go full E.T. and fly off into the night?!"  
"I don't think I'd fly on a bike Cisco," Barry screwed up his face in concentration. "Maybe I could fly on a unicycle, though. Or maybe jump rope…"  
"What about Super speed kite flying?"  
"I would probably fly that way too."  
Cisco continued on, "Super speed trampoline jumping!"  
"Hah! Super speed ballet!"  
"Wouldn't that just be *FLASH* dancing?" Cisco exclaimed, pointing the sucker at Barry.  
Barry groaned dramatically, "ugh, no puns!"  
"Aw, why not? You listen to all of Cold's puns."  
"Well, he's a villain, I can't exactly stop him," Barry shrugged. "Besides, almost all of his puns are speed or cold based. And they're still just awful."  
A familiar voice broke into their conversation. "I'm sure Lenny would disagree with you on that, but I'm here for a different reason." Lisa Snart stepped into the center of the Cortex clad in black motorcycle leathers. "I need your help," she said desperately. "Someones kidnapped my brother."  
"Wait, are you serious this time?" Cisco looked a bit concerned, "or is this another complicated family thing?"  
"When did this happen?" Barry grabbed a pen and notepad, completely in 'CSI mode'. "And where was it? Do you have any security footage of the abduction?"  
Lisa raised an eyebrow, "so who is this then? Wait." She looked around the room, realizing that there was no one else in there. "This is the Flash?" She huffed out a laugh, "you're just a kid!"  
"Not important right now," Barry waved off the comment about his age and moved with a fraction of his super speed, grabbing a spare analysis kit. "Now, tell me everything you know about the crime."  
"Well, after the Fla-well, you, stopped our heist, Mick and I took off for one of the safe houses." Lisa slid into one of the chairs and continued her tale. "Lenny should have been back after an hour, but when he didn't show up I went looking for him. His bike was still in the alleyway, and there was no sign of a fight."  
Cisco brought up the feed from the security cameras at the Jewelers. He rewound to the time of the attempted heist and paused when he saw a person lurking in the shadows. "Uh, guys? There was someone there the entire time."  
Barry sped over to the monitor and took a seat beside Cisco. "Who is that?" He gestured at Lisa then the screen, "Cisco, can you zoom in and clarify the image?" On the screen was a picture of a woman. Dark hair, horn-rimmed glasses, and a psychotic grin marring an otherwise forgettable face. "Someone you know?"  
Lisa shook her head. "I have no idea who that is."  
"Cisco, can you run that through the CCPDs database?"  
"Yeah, running it right now." Cisco continued the video, "you guys really need to watch this, I think we've got a real problem on our hands." He gestured at the screen, which showed the woman talking to Captain Cold, who then followed her out of the alley with no struggle, almost as if he was in a trance. The computer beeped, then displayed a file on one MERCURY Labs employee.  
Barry read the screen, "Professor Candice Providence, medical application of nanotech, multiple reprimands for 'unethical approaches to human research', missing and presumed dead along with Counselor and Hypnotist Mark Jean, in the… oh, in the STAR Labs particle accelerator explosion. Great." He stood up from his seat and faced down Lisa and Cisco. "Call in Caitlin, it looks like we've got a mind controlling Meta-human out there."


	2. A Woman Obsessed

The nightmarish white expanse was all Leonard Snart could see. How long had he been here? Hours? Days? Weeks? Time had no meaning in this emptiness.

That creature and the woman who had brought it had been gone for quite some time now. At least that's how it seemed. Exactly how long had they been gone? Minutes? Years? No way to know. God, what had he done to deserve this? Why was he still here?

Still he walked on. There was no sound, not even that of his own footsteps. Not even the sound of his own breath. Where was this place? This silence was absolutely maddening, Snart was sure he would be out of his mind by the time he got out of here. If he ever did get out of here. Even the images from before would be preferable to being alone. At least then he could pretend there was someone else there.

Why was he just left here, abandoned to the nothingness? Did anyone know that he was gone? Had they forgotten him? Did Lisa know? Did Mick? Did they even care? He had never felt so alone. Never felt so unwanted.

He stopped walking and just stood in the silence, staring into the distance. Why should he keep going if there was nowhere to go? Nowhere to be, nowhere at all. All there was was the vast expanse of white, never ending, all encompassing. So he stopped walking and just gave up on his journey. There was no reason for this anyways. No reason for anything at all.

There would be no one to save him, no one to help him. No one was coming.

Did anybody even care?

No, if they cared they would be here by now. Wherever here was. Wherever this was, nobody was coming for him. Nobody cared about him. Had they ever?

Maybe… maybe he was dead. Maybe he had finally kicked it, a heist gone wrong, misfiring the cold gun, police showing up early, pissed Mick off. He hadn't really thought about what happened after you die, but he had never imagined this. No, this can't be what lies beyond. There has to be more than this. This can't be what waits for everyone at the end.

He stood stock still and stared out into the eternal nothingness. Why keep going? He had nothing left. Nothing to look forward to. Hopelessness.

Nothing to live for.

He reached for his ever-present cold gun, only to find that it wasn't there. His parka, the goggles, his cold gun, his entire Captain Cold persona had been stripped away so easily, leaving behind… who?

Who was he without being Captain Cold? Just Leonard Snart? Just some low-level criminal, living on the edge of the law, stealing to survive?

A purposeless existence. A nobody. Just like his father.

Pathetic.

Snart felt his self-control slipping, and he sat down heavily in the white emptiness. Why even bother with standing? Why bother with it at all, with any of it? There was a weight on his shoulders that he just couldn't seem to lift up. A coldness in his chest, familiar, just like when he was a kid. Like an icy fist closing tight around his heart, cutting off all warmth and all hope. A harsh pressure in the back of his throat and a stinging heat behind his eyes. Soul crushing loneliness crashed over him, like the breakers on the rocks, unstoppable and purely destructive.

Dammit. God dammit.

He wasn't going to cry. Not here, and definitely not alone. Not going to be a failure. Even if there was nobody to see, he would still know. Would still remember how pathetic he was. But what did it matter if he was stuck here? Nothing matters. Nothing at all. Purposeless, emptiness. Negativity hung around him similar to storm clouds, dark, bleak and oppressive.

He closed his eyes to block out the white and drew his knees up to his chest. Why was he here? What did he do to deserve this? His shoulders shook with stifled sobs, and he rubbed his eyes, desperately trying to keep back the tears.

Not going to cry.

He just wanted to go home. Just wanted to see Lisa and Mick. Just wanted to feel safe. Wanted to feel as if somebody, anybody cared.

Not going to cry.

Not going to be weak. Not going to be a disappointment. Not again.

Without his permission, the first tear slid down his face followed by a half silent sob. Dammit, why couldn't he keep control of his emotions? Feelings just get you in trouble, one of the only lessons from his childhood that managed to stick with him after all this time. Feeling are for the weak, and the weak never succeed.

He let out a shaky breath, vainly trying to stop the flow of tears and quiet his sobs. He wasn't going to be weak, even if there was nobody around to see.

Why was he still out here? Did they just forget about him? Did they even care?

Sobbing, he curled into the fetal position and just let go, giving in to the torrent of tears and sorrow. Giving in to the emptiness and hopelessness.

Might as well just give up, he thought. Might as well accept it, I'm never getting out of here. Never going to see anyone I care about ever again.

*Providence Waits*

Professor Candice Providence had a plan. A plan which would bring her the Flash, and give her the power she desired. She adjusted the video camera, aiming the lens at the captive bait. She stepped in front of the filming camera, followed by her most loyal creature, and began her prepared speech.

"Hello Flash, I'm sure by now you've noticed the disappearance of your very own Captain Cold." She gestured dramatically behind her to the unconscious form of Leonard Snart. "Don't worry, he's in quite safe hands, tehehe! He is quite nice looking isn't he? I may just keep him...so pretty." She narrowed her eyes behind the horn-rimmed glasses, and ran blood red nails across the unconscious victim's cheek.

"Now, I'm sure you're wondering what this is all about Flash, and I'll get to that, oh yes I will." The hulking beast at her side rumbled out a growl. "Calm down Mr. Fussy!" she snapped, stomping her high heeled foot. "You're always interrupting me!" Her eyes were wild behind horn-rimmed glasses, and she hastily smoothed her hair down. "Now where was I?" She tapped her foot impatiently. "Ah yes, you see, I require your surrender Flash," she stated, staring directly into the camera. "I need you to join me, to join my followers Flash." She gestured to the creature at her side. "Your speed, hehe, will be quite the addition to my little collection!" Candice walked closer to the camera, leaning into the lens, "now, why should you join me?" She grabbed the camera and panned over her darkened lab, gestured to the dozens of immobile bodies hooked into humming machinery. Dozens of people, snatched away from their families, and for what reason? "I'm sure that no worthy hero can leave so many people trapped within their own minds?!" The madwoman giggled psychotically, "now you see what you must do? Join me and my creations, bow down to the new God! Begin the new religious era!"

"Meet me where I began, and I will trade you Cold's life, and the others... for your own." Candice turned the camera around, aiming it again at the trapped Captain Cold and the massive creature lurking in front of him, and spoke in a mocking, singsong voice. "Now then Flash, you can run away all you wish, but remember, Providence Waits!"

She shut off the camera, and uploaded the video to the site for Central City News. As a kidnapping case, the network would probably have it on the air in about fifteen minutes, just in time for the six o'clock news. Optimum viewing time. Perfect.

Candice walked over to the creature she had nicknamed 'Mr. Fussy' and began speaking in that high pitched voice reserved for children and small animals. "That went well, didn't it Mr. Fussy? Oh yes it did, yes it did!" she said excitedly, running her hand over the creature's massive skull, ruffling the short, stiff, fur. The creature huffed out a derisive sounding bark, flattening its heavy ears at her condescending tone. Just because it looked like an animal doesn't mean it is one. Then again, boss might be completely crazy, but at least she gave it and the rest of the pack free run of the night.

"Now then Mr. Fussy, we just have to wait for the Flash to come running right into our little trap!"

*Providence Waits*

Lisa Snart sat in the Cortex, eyeliner and mascara smudged down her cheeks. She had been crying since she had seen the video of the woman who taken her brother on the local news. She hadn't wanted to cry, but knowing that he actually had been taken, and only to send a message to the Flash, was just too much for her to handle. The members of Team Flash had been working nonstop trying to trace the location of the villain the media had dubbed 'Professor Providence'. Barry had said that he would do everything in his power that he could to find and save Lenny, but she didn't know if she could take him at his word.

He's a cop, she thought. Why would he do anything to help? Caitlin had shown up almost as soon as she had been called, and Barry's family had rushed over almost as soon as the news had ended. Everyone was just being so nice and sincere, and she wasn't sure she could take much more of this. They all seemed to actually care about what happened to Lenny. Seemed to genuinely want to help out.

There were detectives searching for Lenny and the others from the video, Lisa just hoped that everyone was safe, just hoped that her brother would be rescued. The police said that they were doing everything they could, but they only had the one video as evidence. She wiped at her eyes in a desperate attempt to dry them, smudging the makeup even further. Had to stay strong, not show any weakness. God dammit, why wouldn't they let her help? She knew her brother better than anyone, she had to be able to help.

She thought back to the last time she thought she had lost Lenny, back when they were kids and their father.. when their father was still around. It had been one of the bad days, and Lenny had stepped between their dads fists and herself. He took the hits meant for her, and there was just so much blood... Lisa had thought he was going to die. He was fine though, just a few bruises, a busted lip, a few bruised ribs some internal bleeding, nothing that they hadn't seen before. She knew that Lenny would do anything to protect her, and she just wanted her brother back safe.

"Lisa?" The Fla- Barry, gotta remember that. Barry was holding out a steaming cup of tea, "Hey Lisa, are you doing alright?" He passed her the hot tea and sat in the chair next to her. "I just want you to know that the police are doing everything that they can, and I have some outside people working on this, trying to track that psycho down." Barry stood and placed a hand on Lisa's shoulder. "If you need anything, anything at all, I'll be here."

Lisa nodded, staring into her cup of tea and breathing in the steam. "I just want him to come home safe," she whispered, knowing that no one around could hear her. "I just want my brother back." Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, and she shed no more tears. I'll save my tears for when Lenny comes home, she thought, desperately clinging to the idea that he was coming home. She needed to believe that he was out there, and that they would find him. She needed that.

*Providence Waits*

It had been almost eight hours since the video had been posted, and almost thirty-two since Leonard Snart had been taken. Barry sat in his laboratory in the CCPD, speeding through every available police report on one Professor Candice Providence. Apparently, she had been quite active before the Flash had come onto the scene. Kidnappings and missing persons reports had almost halved in numbers after he had started his hero gig. Barry again thought about that creature from the video. It had been massive, almost the size of a large bear. But its eyes had been so expressive. Almost human. No, it couldn't be human, that would be impossible. Genetic splicing was nowhere near advanced enough to create something so complex. There had to be a different explanation. Again he read through the report on Counselor Mark Jean, gone missing in the explosion.

Just missing, or perhaps reintegrated elsewhere?

Barry leapt to his feet and sped to STAR Labs in record time, where he threw the report onto the desk in front of Caitlin, Lisa, and Cisco. "I think I know how she's controlling people!" He exclaimed, pulling up the drawing board. "When the accelerator exploded, she was in a hypnosis session with Counselor Mark Jean, a specialist in a new form of hypnotherapy. Apparently, she had been experimenting on her coworkers. Lovely."

He drew a giant oval labeled 'mind', and inside wrote 'controlled environment', 'people', and 'interactive'.

"See, his theory was to create an interactive scenario inside the patient's mind, then observe and document their interactions with the people, objects, animals, etcetera, in the hope to identify abnormal behaviors. Fascinating really." He turned back to the three people in the Cortex. "Get it," he watched as they blankly stared. "Well, when the accelerator blew, it forced both of them to inhabit the same body! She has all of his ideas, memories, and learnings, and is able to completely control the abilities it gives her!"

Cisco scrunched up his forehead in concentration, "wait, sort of a FIRESTORM situation?"

"Exactly!" Barry pointed wildly with the marker. "Only instead of flames and flying it's psychotic mental manipulation." He sped over to the main computer. "If we can track her down, I believe I know how we can stop her."

Lisa shook her head sadly. "If you can track her down. Nobody has any idea how to do that, though. Not you, not the police, nobody!" She stood suddenly, her fists shaking in rage, "everybody is just giving excuses and nobody is actually helping!"

Barry looked ashamed, staring at the ground. "I'm sorry Lisa, but the way she put up the video... no one can track it." He looked up, eyes filled with sadness. "Wait... there's something she said..." Barry squared his shoulders, and turned towards the others. "I think I know where to go. If I'm not back in four hours get in touch with the Arrow. Please don't try to follow me." He spun on his heel and flashed out of the building, leaving behind only a strong gust of wind and streaks of yellow lightning.


	3. Deal Me In

Barry stood outside the dilapidated MERCURY Labs Medical Sciences Division, the building having been destroyed by the shock wave from the accelerator, now the hidden base of operations for one Professor Candice Providence. He had left the team with no idea where he was going, but he knew that if there was any sort of trouble they would send the Arrow to find him. Not that there would be any trouble, the speedster had an almost idiot proof plan of action. Well, at least he hoped it was idiot proof.

"Meet me where I began." That had to mean this place, the epicenter of this convoluted disaster. This had to be it, right? Then again, it was either MERCURY Labs or her hometown's hospital, and the second one was extremely doubtful and just a little bit ridiculous. So here he was in this disaster area, the bright red of the Flash suit stood in stark contrast to the dark, crumbling concrete, like the inverse of a deep bloodstain against the bright snow.

There was a low growl, some kind of animal. Whatever it was, it had to be massive, like a bear or a wolf. Or that thing from the video. Nah, that thing couldn't be real, it had to be some sort of trickery, digital manipulation or something. Can't be real. Barry turned in a small circle, surveying his surroundings. Wherever that sound was coming from he couldn't see it, and wasn't that a worrying thought.

A clatter of falling and sliding rubble, "welcome to the party Flash! So nice that you could make it on such short notice." Professor Providence was practically dancing about with glee, her hands clasped in delight, blood red nails glinting menacingly. "You may be wondering where the others are, don't worry, they're safe." She suddenly turned serious, eyes dark and menacing behind the glasses, teeth bared in a sharp snarl. "They're safe for now. You try to bluff me, or run some sort of trick, and they're all dead." Her face brightened up with a radiant grin and she gestured cheerily towards the destroyed entrance to the building, "now follow me Flash, for things are about to get very interesting."

He followed her as she walked down the destroyed halls, down the mangled staircases, and into the virtually unharmed sublevels. The deep thrumming of machinery filled the musty air, and the soft glow of green faintly illuminated the darkness. Barry stood still, frozen by the shock of what he was seeing.

Rows upon rows of hospital beds loomed in the dark room, each filled with an immobilized occupant, dozens more than were shown in the video, over a hundred in number. Children, men, women, missing and taken people from all over the city. What were they here for? What did she want with them? What was her plan?

"Do you like my little setup Flash? It's quite impressive," Candice stalked between the filled beds, dragging her hands along the railings. "Wouldn't you agree?" Her smile was dark, the intent behind it clear. She wanted the Flash to join her collection. "Their minds were so busy at first, so full of their little fears," she sighed daintily, "but now they are almost silent, nothing but the purity of my power now."

"Why are you doing this," Barry asked softly, still mentally reeling from the weight of the atrocity before him. "What are you doing to these people?''

Professor Providence stomped angrily, eyes flashing with power. "They're not people!" She shouted, "they're just insects! So weak, and insignificant!" She grinned, showing too many teeth, and whispered, "they're just toys, just playthings for Gods." Her insane gaze fixed on the Flash, "they're nothing!"

"They're humans! You can't treat them like this!" Barry shook his head, this was so much worse than anything he could have ever imagined, how was he supposed to save them all? "You can't do this, it's insane, it's just not right."

Providence glared, her small hands curled into fists. "Right and wrong, Good and Evil, these are just illusions, Flash. Fictions fabricated by the weak to control the strong." The psychopath stepped forward, heels clicking on the cold floor. "Don't you understand? There is no greater purpose, there is only nothingness!" She angrily gritted her teeth, "these things never thought, only obeyed. They obeyed the laws, obeyed their ethics, their little laws of morality. They were just empty husks, nothing compared to me! They may have looked alive, but they never truly lived."

"Just let them go, I'll take their place." Barry was certain he could trick the madwoman, this was what she wanted, wasn't it? His speed in trade for everyone else's freedom? "I'll go whatever you want, just let them free."

"Ha! You think I'm just going to let them all go?" Providence giggled hysterically, "did you really think I would toss away perfectly good toys?" Barry stepped back, not believing what he heard. "But you said-

"I LIED!" Providence shouted, all traces of humor gone. "Did you really believe me? Are you really so feeble minded?!" She lifted her hand, one row of prisoners following in its wake, small, mangled bodies rising from the beds and shambling forward lifelessly. They shuffled out of the shadows, eyes empty, trapped within a world of Providences own design, knowing only despair and her orders. "Let's see how long it takes you to learn your lesson." She snapped her fingers and the mutilated husks of over a dozen of her guards surrounded the Flash, trapping him with a wall of bodies. "Kill the Flash."

 _Oh god, they were children, she was going to make him fight children!_

He tried to move back, but the surrounding hoard refused to move, twisted limbs reaching for him, clawed fingers snatching in the air. Barry attempted to push past them, but they only moved in closer, mutated mouths full of fangs snapping at the suit. He really didn't want to fight them, but they just kept attacking, grabbing whatever part of him they could hold on to, clutching his legs and weighing him down. With an insatiable bloodthirst, they attacked, animalistic and brutal. Strength unbefitting their small forms came across with each blow. Snarling like wild creatures they pounced, bit and punched, swiped and kicked. Claws and fangs sank into the fabric of the suit, shredding the material and piercing the skin beneath.

Blood coated their mouths, their hands, blood covered the floor, splattered across the wall and the filled beds. Some of them stopped their assault, crouching by the puddles of blood and drinking from the red mess. Barry vainly attempted to shake them off, only succeeding in driving their fangs and claws deeper into his skin. Even with his accelerated healing, he would be weak from blood loss soon, then after that... There was only one viable option now, other than being killed by a bunch of mutated children.

Lightning.

If he could throw lightning he could escape, but at what cost? No time to waste.

Barry tapped into his speed, swiftly punching his attackers and loosening their hold. He scrambled away from the ravenous hoard, circling them at speeds impossible for anyone other than the Flash, collecting the energy necessary for his next action. Electricity rippled through him, and he hurled the bolt into the group, striking them down in one blast. The pile of small bodies smoked lightly, and the scent of seared flesh filled the air.

Dead. They were dead.

His eyes wide with shocked horror, Barry slumped to his knees, staring at the tragedy before him. The cost of his actions was so apparent now, there was no justification for what he had done. And what had he done? They were only children... they weren't monsters, they were kids!

They may have acted like animals, but that didn't mean that they were. They were being controlled, manipulated. Oh, god... Bright laughter flooded his hearing, and Professor Providence stepped into view from behind one of the beds.

"What a show! I really didn't think you had it in you Flash." She stared down at him, humor in her eyes. "But now it's time to give up and let me win." A bright light, and a whisper, "Providence waits."

*Providence Waits*

"Caitlin, it's been over an hour since he left and there's no trace of him anywhere! We should call the Arrow, just in case." Cisco was frantically exhausting all possible methods of searching for Barry; he hadn't told them where he was going and then vanished without a trace. They couldn't trace him on cameras, satellites, or the police scanner, his phone was still in his street clothes, and his comm had been switched off before he ran away. Caitlin paced nervously around the Cortex, "you're right, you're right, we need to find Barry." She pulled up the contact list on the main computer and dialed the number of Oliver Queen.

*Ring-ring, Ring-ring*

 _*Hello?*_

"Oliver, we need your help."

 _*What happened, what's wrong?*_

"Barry went after a rogue Meta over an hour ago and hasn't come back yet."

 _*Fuck, do you know what her power is?*_

"Mind control, it's something like mind control and hypnosis."

 _*Dammit, I'm on my way, be there within the hour, keep me updated.*_

*dial tone*

Cisco sat staring at the main screen in the Cortex. This entire case was insane, first the kidnapping and now this? Just ridiculous. At least Lisa had gone home to sleep, she hadn't been looking to well. She had been stressing herself out with worry about her brother. He had been gone for over thirty-three hours, she had a right to be worried. Cisco hated to admit it, but he was worried about her. Hell, he worried about everyone on this team. He worried about Jesse, worried about Harry, even worried about that jerk, Hartley. Thankfully he wasn't really on the team or he might have punched him. He rested his head on the table, just trying to relieve some of the stress from the day. Humming machinery and the dull buzz of florescent lighting lulled him into a light sleep-like state, and he felt the tingle of nerves at the back of his skull that came before each Vibe-

*** Darkness.

Cold.

Fear.

Where are they?

Reaching hands.

Not safe here.

Pain.

Blood.

Whispers, and a hysterical laugh.

"Time to give up Flash!"

"Join us, join us, join us join us Join us" ***

"-isco, Cisco!" He jolted upright, mind still filled with whatever he had seen. Caitlin was standing over him, concern was written plainly across her face. "Cisco, are you alright?" She had shaken him awake, how long had he been out?

He shook his head, "I just had a strange Vibe, don't know what it meant, but I think it was about Barry and Snart." He glanced at the time on his computer, Dammit, he was really worried, he'd been asleep for almost half an hour and there was still no news from Barry. He said to wait three hours, but he had never gone so off the grid before. Never tried to track down a psychopath without any help. Oliver should be there soon, at least he would be able to help them. They had no new news about the video, and the police said they had nothing to go on. Joe had put himself out on the streets trying to track him down with no luck, and Iris had been trying her best to help him. "We'll find him," he said, trying to convince himself as well as Caitlin. "We'll get him back. We have to."

"I know Cisco, I just wish we could do more to help." Caitlin patted his shoulder and moved off to her station. "Um, did you recognize anything in the Vibe?"

"No, wherever it was is too dark, I couldn't see anything." He frowned, worried about what he had seen. "I wish I could do more, but I don't know where they are." He stood abruptly, pacing the room, "they're not safe where they are, someone else was there with them. There were voices." Cisco continued his pacing, trying to make himself remember more. "Whatever was with them wasn't human, Caitlin. It was some kind of monster."


	4. Out of the Cold

" _O' Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are ca- a -lllling"_

Singing. Someone is singing.

 _"From Glen to gleeeeeen, and down the moun-tain siiiiiiiide"_

Oh god, it's terrible. Barry really didn't want to open his eyes and see whoever was doing this. The notes were loud, and carried well in the cool air of... wherever this place was, he didn't want to know. He couldn't connect to the Speed Force… What was happening to him?

 _"The summer's gone, and all the roses fa- a -alling,_

 _'Tis you, 'tis you, must go and IIIIIIIII must bide"_

Just awful, why are they doing this? So pitchy, and they keep reaching for notes that aren't in their range.

 _"But come ye baa- a- aack when summer's in the meadow"_

Their voice was definitely masculine, familiar, and probably wouldn't have been that bad if they actually tried. You know, instead of randomly jumping into falsetto. Or randomly screeching. Or basically doing anything other than what they were currently doing. Barry grimaced and steeled himself for whatever was to come next. Whoever was singing so badly must be completely insane. The singing stopped and devolved into humming which got closer and closer and then stopped. Barry felt a sudden weight press on his chest and a puff of warm air hit his face. He opened his eyes to find himself with Captain Cold less than two inches away, sitting on his chest and staring intently at him without blinking, wearing a strangely vacant expression. He wasn't wearing his Captain Cold ensemble, and he seemed… off.

"Hey Flash," he said cheerily, a disturbing smile spreading across his features. "When did you get here?"

Barry's jaw dropped in shock, "uh, I, um..." He stuttered through his reply, futilely trying to understand what was happening. Leonard Snart was sitting on him and grinning like a complete maniac. _What the Hell is going on here,_ he thought, placing his hands on Snart's shoulders and trying to push him off of him and failing, only succeeding in shifting him about an inch further away, his warm breath still hitting his face. "Snart, what the hell are you doing? Get the fuck off o-"

"Len," Cold interrupted conversationally, not at all concerned by the fact that he was sitting on the chest of his enemy, legs splayed, knees bracketing his shoulders.

"Wai-what?"

"Kid, you can call me Len, it's just weird when you call me by my last name," Snart -Len looked quite pleased with himself, and continued speaking. "How would you like it if I just called you 'Allen' all the time?"

Barry blinked in confusion. "Um, I would prefer if you didn't do that, you're supposed to be my enemy."

Len rolled his eyes and huffed out a laugh. "Sure, my 'enemy'. You know that we're not really enemies, right?" He shifted his weight, trying not to put too much pressure on Barry. "If we were really enemies, you wouldn't be here with me... unless Providence just picked you up off the street..." A look of concentration shifted across his features, "or all of this is just another illusion she's made. Just another one of her tricks." He leaned forward again and locked eyes with Barry, ice blue meeting bright green. "You'd tell me if you were an illusion, right Barry?"

"I'm not an illusion Snart," Barry said softly, not wanting to upset him. Something was seriously wrong with Captain Cold. He seemed unfocused and almost confused about what was happening. Brainwashed. "You know I'm not."

"But I can't know for sure..." Len moved his arms from his sides and jabbed Barry in the cheek through the mask. "You seem real enough."

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Barry rubbed his cheek, damn, that had actually hurt, it didn't hurt much but it had taken him by surprise.

"Evidence. I just had to make sure you were real." Len softly patted the cheek he had poked. "Sorry, kid. At least you had the mask on."

Barry suddenly realized the absurdity of the situation he was in. He had come here to save his enemy, gotten double crossed and now the person he was trying to save was sitting on him and trying to decide if he was real. _What the hell, how did this happen,_ he wondered, once again trying to remove Snart from his person. And once again he failed, only resulting in Snart glaring at him and frowning.

Len's expression quickly changed from a glare to a look of shame, "I'm sorry Barry, I told her your name… I didn't want to, we had a deal… I'm so sorry." Snart looked devastated as he confessed what he thought was a crime, not realizing that Barry didn't care that he had given away his identity.

"It's fine Len, just tell me one thing," Barry said, looking up into his enemies eyes.

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Why are you still sitting on me?" Barry asked, not sure what to do with his hands. He can't just leave them on Snart while talking to him, that would just be weird and uncomfortable for the both of them. "If you could maybe sit somewhere else..."

Len rolled off to the side and sat hunched in on himself on the cold floor. "Sorry, shouldn't have done that in the first place, don't really know why I did, shouldn't hav… " he trailed off in the middle of his sentence and his eyes lost focus. Soft breathing was the only sound he made and was almost as still as a stone, the rise and fall of his chest with each breath the only movement. Atonal humming started quietly and rose slightly in volume. The tune was slightly familiar, but Barry wasn't sure what it was.

Barry sat up and reached for Snart's shoulder, "Len?"

The door of the cold room swung open with a light grinding of rusty hinges. Sharp heel clicks, a disturbed, high-pitched, giggle. "Oh, I wouldn't play with that one if I were you Flash, I'm afraid it's broken, just no fun."

Springing to his feet, the Flash whirled around to face their captor, "what the hell did you do to him?"

Candice shrugged her shoulders daintily, "it was weak, and just snapped under the pressure. Humans are such fragile things aren't they?"

Barry gritted his teeth in determination, "what did you do to him," he repeated, hoping for a real answer this time.

Candice smiled, "I just found out what it was afraid of, and it did the rest of the damage to itself. Really, the passing of time in relation to emotional distress is really quite fascinating, I got some amazing data from that one. It refused to answer one of my questions in the beginning, though... " She turned her gaze to the man on the floor, who was still humming quietly and staring into nothingness. The previously imposing Captain Cold, the leader of the Rogues, reduced to such a pitiful state by a psychopath with a God Complex. Candice turned back to the Flash, prepared to have some sort of fun with his mind. "But nevermind that, I'm sure you have answers to questions I never knew I had." She stepped closer and looked the Flash straight in the eye. "It's funny Flash, you should have been under my control after what happened earlier, but you just keep surprising me." She stared Barry in the eyes, and her own burned with immense power.

Nothing.

Barry tried once more to access the Speed Force, he was closer this time, whatever had happened, whatever she had done, was wearing off quickly. He'd be out of here soon enough, he could almost guarantee it. As long as he could run, nothing was impossible.

"So strange," she muttered, walking around the room, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "How is it that you are resistant? Your mind is just like all of the others, just...faster…." Her face lit up in a wide, toothy, grin. "Genius! Your mind moves far too fast for me to control! It's magnificent!" She stepped in close, eyes once again locked on his own. "But if I did take your speed, my creatures wouldn't be controllable…a shame really. Speed such as yours would have been quite lovely to own." She turned on her heel and headed out the door. "I'll be back soon, I have quite a few more questions I need answered, Flash." The wooden door closed with a grind and a loud slam, shaking in the steel frame.

Steel frame, rusted hinges, wooden door, and a speedster. Bad combination. An easy prison to break out of.

The Flash turned back to Snart and dropped into a crouch beside him. "Len?" He reached for his shoulder, only for his hand to be smacked away. The humming had stopped and Snart had a look of fear, no, of terror, in his eyes, and he scrambled backward towards the wall where he sat shaking heavily.

With his work in forensics, Barry had never seen for himself the effects of brainwashing on a person, but he knew how it happened in theory. Knew how people would do anything to stop the torture, anything to save themselves. But seeing someone he knew change so much, so drastically… it was something he had never wanted to witness, and something he wanted to put right. Something he needed to put right.

"Is she gone?" Len asked, mumbled so quietly Barry almost didn't hear. "Did she leave, or is this just another trick?" Snart gazed up at Barry from his place on the floor. "Please," he whispered, voice shaking. "I need to know that she's gone."

Barry moved in close and patted Snart's shoulder softly. "She's gone Len, she's gone, she can't get to you." Snart slumped heavily against the wall, keeping in contact with Barry's hand, needing to ground himself with something other than the constant nightmare that woman had made his life into. _She's gone, and I'm going to try and keep it that way,_ Barry thought angrily, his mind full with plans of escape. He had to get Cold out, had to save all of those people, had to bring that insane woman to justice.

*Providence Waits*

It's only been two hours since Oliver Queen had arrived in Central City, but he was already caught up in the web of danger and crime that surrounded the Flash's every move. Twilight sun was stretching pale arms of pink and orange light over the city, spreading shadows in their wake, ominous intent hidden within its innocence. He'd watched the video sent by the psychopath over a dozen times, he had repeatedly traced over every possible step Barry could have made, and even spoken with the associates of Leonard Snart, the Rogues Gallery. There was no trace of the missing hero and villain. No evidence that could possibly be followed, only grainy security footage and an anonymously posted ransom video. Nothing they could actually follow up on, only rumors of monstrous animals in the dark and missing people found in impossible places, blood drained and meat hacked from the bone.

The Arrow had been seen 'visiting' members of the criminal underworld of Central City, asking questions and following any lead, no matter how slim, no matter how impossible. And now here he was, following the last lead, lurking outside the high-level windows of MERCURY Labs Headquarters. He had some questions for Doctor Christina 'Tina' McGee, owner of MERCURY Labs and the previous employer of one Professor Candice Providence and one Counselor Mark Jean. Oliver needed to know Providence, her habits, how she moved, how she thought, how she planned. The files he had read on his way here painted a bare-bones portrait of a narcissistic woman with a God Complex and a vicious need to control and possess everything they saw, and destroy that they could not have. He needed to know why she had been visiting the now deceased counselor, and how he had been treating her. Needed to know what his mind had contained before his untimely departure from physical form.

So many questions, so many options on how to extract the answers.

Violence wouldn't do in this sort of situation, though, a more subtle approach would be required. Breaking and entering wasn't exactly his favorite method, but it had its uses. Such as this one. He smashed his fist into the glass, metal plated tactical gloves taking the majority of the force, and he leaped through the new opening and into the dimly lit office of Dr. McGee.

He drew back his bow, the arrow already nocked and prepared to fire. The shadowy form of Dr. McGee was in his sights, and he was prepared to do anything to get the answers he needed.

"Where is Candice Providence?" His voice rumbled through the office, startling the only occupant who whirled around to see Starling City's hooded vigilante staring her down, bow drawn and arrow at the ready.

Dr. McGee raised her hands above her head, palms flat. "Look, I don't know where she is, but I know where she might be."

The Arrow relaxed his grip on the bow, releasing the tension on the string. "Tell me what you know."


	5. The Uninformed Consumer

If crazy were equal to genius, Professor Providence would be considered a massive cut above the rest. Her ideas were revolutionary in the scientific community, inspired. Rewriting the human genome with micro-machinery, repairing cellular damage at the most basic level, absolutely genius. The only downside of her research was the ethical implications of such work. Human experimentation would be necessary, and her way of finding test subjects was considered to be... questionable at the least.

With the new powers she could now wield, she had no concern for the rules of the scientific community. No concern for their moral code. If she didn't have the result she wanted, she would force the results to change. She would make the world fall to its knees before her. She stalked through the rows of beds filled with her test subjects, 'Mr. Fussy' close on her heels. Such desolation ran through the thoughts of those immobile, such loneliness and emptiness. Beautiful sadness, a prison of her own design. She leered down at the empty faces of her captured pets. They would be nothing without her power. They were nothing. She was their God, and she would rule above all things.

And now the Flash was her own to keep as well. Barry Allen, her new little pet, hers to play with and mold in the image she desired. She would figure out how to separate his speed, and get what she wanted, there was no doubt in her mind. She would succeed. The sharp clicking of her high heels echoed in the almost silent rooms expanse, punctuating the hum of the machines and the buzz of the lights. All of their hearts beat in synchrony, captive breaths inaudible in the mix of almost silent sounds.

The creature at her side moved silently, its size daunting, sheer strength inspiring fear in almost all who gazed upon it. So intelligent, but its genius mind was still hers. Still able to be controlled. For now.

'Mr. Fussy' was not her pet. No, it was her follower. A member of her vast congregation. It may have looked like an animal, may look to be nothing but brute strength and power, but its mind was strong, and it was most definitely one of her favorite creations. She knows that it did not respect her, and neither did the others, but no matter. Once she was known as the God she was, she would have millions of creatures like it, not just the handful she had under her command at the current moment.

She turned her mind from the thoughts of rebellion running through her creatures mind, and she latched back onto the despair coursing through the veins of all those she had captured. Beautiful misery and pain. She reveled in the carnage she had planted in their minds. Broken. Completely shattered, unable to live without her. They were almost ready to become part of her favorite creations.

She just needed a little bit more time to work.

Just a little more time.

*Providence Waits*

"You're telling me that they've been at MERCURY this entire time!?" Cisco shouted at Oliver, the only person who was able to bring in any sort of a lead from his excursions in the criminal underworld. He shouldn't yell at the messenger, but there wasn't a lot of options were there?

Cisco was pacing around the Cortex, anger and frustration written across his face. "Why wasn't I able to track him there? I should have been able to figure this out! It was in the damn video!" Frustration flowed around him in rolling waves, almost tangible. It only added to the already tense atmosphere in the room. Ever since Oliver had gotten back from his little 'visit', things had been uncomfortable. They needed to mount a rescue effort, but they had no idea on how to break into a destroyed and abandoned building with no blueprints available for reference. Especially with that thing from the video to take into account. Whatever that thing was, it would be a real problem.

Caitlin shook her head, "Cisco, we didn't know how important that building was to her, you couldn't have expected to find this out." What kind of person stays in an abandoned building just because they used to work there? A crazy person, that's who.

"Well, it's pretty obvious that Barry did!" Cisco sat heavily in his seat, turning back to Oliver. "Did Dr. McGee tell you anything else that we can use? Anything about what she had been working on?" If they knew what she had been doing they could figure out a way to stop her.

Oliver shook his head, "no, she didn't know anything, just that she had no qualms about human testing."

"Human testing?" Caitlin's eyes went wide, shock clear in her expression. "What was she… what was she testing on people?" As a doctor, she had no idea how someone could just break their code of ethics like that. How they could just go and test on people without any sort of informed consent.

Oliver frowned, "genetic manipulation or something like that, I don't really understand it." He pulled out a heavy, thick, file with the symbol for MERCURY Labs embossed on the front. "McGee said that all of Providence's MERCURY sanctioned findings are in this folder."

Caitlin thumbed through the thick folder, skimming its content. "We need to make a plan," she said, not looking up from the pages, lost in the complexity of the research. It truly was brilliant. "We need to get Barry, Snart, and all of those people in the video out of there." She looked up from the folder and turned to Cisco and Oliver. "I think we need to call the Rogues, then we need to call Lisa, need to let her know that we can finally get her brother back."

Oliver shrugged, it was a good a plan as any, working with criminals instead of law enforcement. Besides, now they had a real chance to make this right.

*Providence Waits*

Fucking Hell, Snart was singing again. Barry had been trying to tune out his constant ramblings for the past half hour, instead focusing on finding any sort of weak point in the door jam. Those rusty hinges would be easy to snap once he had his speed back. Any second now, he thought, running his hands over the cold metal and wood once more, feeling his connection to the Speed Force strengthen with every passing moment. _Any time now._

" _Hey, I just met you,"_ Seriously? That was what he was going to sing now? That abomination?

" _And this is cra-a-a-zy,"_ Nope, no, no way. This can't be what's happening. Nope. Barry refused to believe that Snart even knew that song.

" _But here's my number, So call me maybe!"_

Barry groaned and lightly smacked his head against the wall, trying to focus on anything other than Captain Cold's extremely pitchy, yet enthusiastic, rendition of 'Call Me Maybe'. Anything but that. It was just wrong , it seemed like it should be against the laws of nature and the universe. The man was truly insane at this point, no denying it.

"Barry. Hey, hey, Barry!" Snart's voice rang out in the cold room, cheerfulness even with their dreary location.

The aforementioned speedster slammed his fist into the door, hints of the Speed Force rattling and shaking it in its frame. Dammit, what did he want now?! He was so close to being able to get them out of here. So close to their freedom. "What is it Len," he said, the fake cheerful tone of voice not betraying his frustration towards the man. He didn't really know what was happening at this point. Why was this his life? He's not supposed to be on a first name basis with his criminals!

"Um, do you think, hehe, Barry, do you think that pigeons have feelings?" Barry sighed heavily and he turned to face Captain Cold, the man was sitting on the ground, a dazed, almost vulnerable, expression on his face. He rambled on, completely oblivious to the annoyance Barry was feeling. "Do you think they do? Because I called a pigeon on the street 'Lard-ass' a few days ago. Do you think I hurt its feelings? I don't want to hurt pigeons feelings, no matter how gross they are!"

Barry turned back to the door and rested his head on the cool wood with a sigh. Dammit, what the hell had happened in Snart's mind? What had Providence done to him? He just looked so lost, almost helpless. The speedster wanted to help him, to save him from himself, but he knew he wasn't qualified to handle this kind of situation. They needed a trauma counselor, someone who knew how to do this right.

"Barry, are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, I'm listening." He heard shuffling behind him, and again he turned, finding Snart less than a foot away, a serious expression written across his features. "What is it now, Snart?"

Snart looked anywhere except into Barry's eyes, the serious look darkened into something more like sadness. "I'm just glad that you, well, that anybody at all decided to try and save me." He looked up from the ground, finally meeting Barry's gaze. "I just…I wanted to thank you, Barry. For everything, being here and for always believing that there was good in me. Just, thanks..." Snart looked away, turning and leaving before Barry could respond, and walked back to where he had been sitting and slumped to the ground. Isolating himself back into his own mind, cutting himself off from the world again.

The Flash turned back to the door, he hadn't realized just how Snart felt. Hell, he never really thought about it. He closed his eyes and felt for the whispers of the Speed Force, calling upon its power. He felt fierce electricity surge through his body, lighting up his every nerve and he rammed a vibrating fist into the rusty hinges, shattering them upon impact. The door rocked and jerked in its frame, so close to breaking. So close to escaping.

Freedom. He could almost taste it. The sweet air of freedom.

He hit the door, again and again, smashing through the wood, bending the frame, ultimately destroying the lock on their prison. Barry turned back to the almost catatonic Snart, he needed to get him out of here, the others would have to wait. He scooped the immobile Snart up into his arms, and rushed out of the cold room, leaving only a gust of wind and streaks of lightning in his wake.

*Providence Waits*

Speed.

Such speed.

Leonard Snart felt almost high on the feeling. God, it was amazing, the wind, the blur of the world falling away. It was beautiful, absolute poetry in motion. Then as soon as it had started, it was over. The wind stopped rushing by and the world stood still once more. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was talking to the Flash… "Barry?" he questioned, looking around the room for the scarlet speedster. "Where'd you go kid?"

The room was bare except for computer monitors and glass panels, it was oddly familiar. STAR Labs? Snart walked on shaky legs to the nearest door stopping in his tracks with what he heard.

Whispers. Familiar voices, ones he hadn't heard in what seemed to be forever. Who was it that was talking out there? He leaned close to the door and listened into the hushed conversation.

" _-can't just let him leave like this-"_

" _-don't know what to do-"_

" _-needs help-"_

" _-who's going to help a criminal-"_

" _-that's my brother you're talking about-"_

" _-and my friend-"_

" _-he needs help-"_

The voices conversation continued as Snart wandered away from the door, lost in the darkness of his own thoughts.

Why was he here at STAR Labs? He couldn't remember much after the heist gone wrong, just brief flashes of memory, patches of white and red. Barry was there. Wasn't he? He didn't know anymore, only knew that there was something wrong with him. At least that's what Providence had told him. She had said that he needed to admit to himself that he had done something wrong, something she didn't approve of, and if he did then… he didn't remember what she had promised him in return. Something about being one of her chosen. Something to do with a God. He just didn't remember. There was just so much that was missing, how long had he really been gone?

Humming softly to himself, Snart meandered down the hallway, further into the inner workings of STAR Labs. So much glass and rounded edges, very Art Deco. Modernistic to the point of futurism. His hand trailed across the walls as he walked, listening to the buzz of the lights overhead. The hallway curved and he followed it, walking down to the empty pipeline. Snart stared into the incomprehensibly huge space of the dark accelerator interior, it was truly amazing, commanding respect and awe from those who looked upon it. Sure, he may have no idea how it worked, how it really functioned, but it was still an extraordinary view. It was magnificent.

He sat with his legs hanging over the edge and just stared into the vastness of the accelerator. It made him feel… not quite empty, closer to disillusioned, insignificant in the full scope of things. Such power from something that looked like nothing but empty space, it was just overwhelming. His tuneless humming continued, echoing slightly in the inky depths and ringing back to him a few seconds after the original, distorted and unrecognizable. It was beautiful in its disarray.

Footsteps behind him, two pairs, quiet at first, growing louder each step. Heels, and some kind of heavy boots. Whoever it was, they were almost running. Wonder why, he thought, continuing his soul searching, gazing out into the emptiness of the accelerator. So desolate, yet so welcoming.

"Lenny?!" Snart heard the sharp click of heels and felt the arms of his sister wrap around his shoulders, pulling him away from the edge. "Mick, down here, I found him!"

Heavy boot steps, Mick, came thundering down the corridor, and a heavy hand fell onto Snart's shoulder. "Boss, you're still here," Mick's voice rumbled through the hall, familiar, yet so far away.

Len nodded slowly in way of response, still staring into the accelerator. Still humming quietly to himself, barely registering the presence of those who were closest to him, not noticing the only people he cared most about. Not noticing the warm arms wrapped around him, not noticing the panicked tone in his sister's voice as he failed to respond to her. Just staring off into the dark vastness. So beautiful in its nothingness, almost an echo of his own shattered mind.

"Mick, grab his arms, help me carry him." Lisa was terrified, they had just gotten her brother back and he wasn't responding. The Flash had warned them that something was wrong, but she didn't know how bad it was. Lenny didn't seem to even notice she was there. She and Mick carried Len back to the others, hefting him up onto the hospital bed in the laboratory. "You guys have to help him," Lisa said, tears threatening to fall at any moment. "You guys need to do something!"

Len shifted his vacant, empty gaze onto Lisa, a hopeful smile spreading across his face. "Lis, Mick, when did you two get here?" His tone of voice was far too calm, and he spoke slowly, words slurred, almost as if he had been sedated. "I really, really, really, missed you two." He sat up on the bed and pulled Lisa into a one-armed hug, "c'mere sis, you too Mick," he said, empty hand latching onto Mick and pulling him into the hug. "It's good to see you two again, it's been waaaaay too long."

Mick stood there awkwardly, arms pinned to his sides by Len. He was not what you would call the hugging kind. Now Lisa on the other hand, she was returning the hug wholeheartedly, arms wrapped tight around her brother.

Oliver and the members of Team Flash looked away in discomfort, this was just a little too weird, even for them.

"Barry! C'mere, get in here." Len grinned widely, his eyes still dull and glazed over. The speedster shook his head, "no thanks Snart, I don't think there's enough room." There was plenty of room, but Barry really did not want to be involved in that hug. Lisa looked like she was about to cry, and Mick, poor Mick looked like he was about to light the entire city on fire from confusion.

"If you say so kid."

Barry turned back to Oliver and the rest of his team. They needed a plan to take Professor Providence down.


	6. Dissociate, Relocate

Chaos. Pure chaos.

Central City is burning down.

It's the apocalypse out there in the concrete jungle, pure destruction, and disaster. The peak of cataclysmic events. The Flash and the others have been fighting against the ravenous tide of destruction for almost an hour now, and the creatures that haven't died fight more fiercely with each passing moment. They have no concern for their own safety and run directly into danger, mindless in their glorious fury.

Providence has taken her army of creatures from the sewers to the main streets, order flees before them and chaos follows in their wake. Fire spouts up in every road, electricity rains down in heavy waves from every direction. Shattered glass and twisted metal cover every flat surface, smashed and destroyed cars line the street sides in a bizarre type of protective wall, people cowering behind them, hoping and praying to live through this. Praying that the Flash can save them.

She's been calling out to the Flash in the midst of the battle. She wants him dead for his disobedience, no matter the cost to the city. No matter how much destruction or death she causes. She wants the destruction to herald her arrival as the new God. She wants the world to fall to its knees before her mighty army, wants death to sweep away those too weak to worship her. Fear is truly her one greatest weapon.

The citizens of the city who haven't fled the scene can see their hero battling against those monsters out on the streets, aided by Star City's Arrow and the known criminals Golden Glider and Heatwave. They're fighting valiantly, fighting with streaks of lightning, waves of flame and gold, and raining cascades of arrows. Yet they're losing. And they're losing badly. Whatever those things are, the heralds of flame and lightning, there's over a dozen of them, hulking in size, impossibly strong, leaving flame in their wake and chasing electrical storms before them. Every time one of the four gets close, the creatures seem to phase and disappear from their grasp. Monsters, demons, beasts, whatever you call them they are a purely destructive force, lead by one Professor Providence.

"Run while you still can Flash!" Providence laughs hysterically as her mass of creatures attack all they can see, leaving wounded and dead civilians and police in their wake. "You've got a bit of a surprise coming your way!" The one she named 'Mr. Fussy' follows her diligently, staying out of the fray, herding the heroes away from its mistress whenever they get too close for comfort. It longed to be out there amidst the slaughter aiding its brethren, but it had its orders.

A well-placed bolt of gold covers two of the vicious creatures, killing them where they stand, leaving golden statues in their place. Thirteen of them remain, claws swiping at their human attackers. Thick waves of flame wrap around another of them, choking out its own fire. It dies in an explosion of electricity, taking those closest with it into oblivion. Arrows rain down upon the rest, killing some, injuring others.

The tide of the battle is changing to favor the humans.

At long last 'Mr. Fussy' leaps into the fray, closing strong jaws around the nearest human it can reach. Sharp fangs pierce fabric, digging into the soft flesh beneath, an arrow pierces its thick hide. It doesn't notice, just keeps snapping, driving their fangs deeper into the leg of the Flash. A loud scream of pain. Music to its ears.

"Get back here Mr. Fussy!" It's brethren are dying in agony, but it must do its sworn duty. Protect the insane woman who created them. It releases its hold and once again circles Professor Providence, fierce hatred of its mistress stewing deep in its mind.

Vengeance. Not now, but soon. It will have its vengeance against them all.

The Flash throws bolts of lightning into the ravenous hoard, striking more of them down, and explosions of fire and gold take out more of the creatures, sending the remaining five running back to the sewers. Cowards. 'Mr. Fussy' stands its ground, it has its orders. It may not like them, but it will obey.

Providence angrily stomps her feet, her army is retreating, fleeing before their lessers. No matter, she still has her back up plan. The people in the laboratory. Empty minds just waiting to be filled with her power.

She reaches out for them with her mind- wait. Something is wrong. No. NO! This can't be!

"What have you done Flash?!" She tries again, reaching for those she had under her control. Nothing. " Where is my army?!"

The Flash stands in front of her, battered and bleeding, eyes filled with defiance. "Give up Providence," he says, still keeping his distance from her and that creature beside her. "All of the people in the lab are gone, they're free from you. Just give up." The two criminals step up to stand beside him, guns ready to fire gold and heat if needed. "There's no way to win, just come quietly and-

"NEVER!" She lunges forwards, small fists flying, anger and desperation fueling her actions. "I'LL NEVER GIVE UP!" A snarl passes her lips, and her fists strike against the Flash futilely. The battle is over, she just doesn't know it yet. "I'LL KILL YOU FLASH!" She howls with rage, all of her grand work undone by four insignificant insects , don't they know she is a God? Don't they know that she-

A needle filled with a sedative slips into her neck, and she falls limp into the waiting arms of her captors. Metal cuffs are slapped over her wrists, restraining both her and her powers. It's over. Good God, it's finally over.

The mental connection between her and her army is severed in her forced sedation and depowerment. 'Mr. Fussy' slinks away into the shadows after its comrades, the humans too distracted with their hard won victory to notice it leave. Vengeance, soon it will have its vengeance. The battle may have been lost, but they would not lose the war. No matter the cost to itself, it will reign victorious above all things. Human, animal or metahuman. Even above the one they called God. Above All.

No matter what.

*Providence Waits*

Candice Providence is perhaps the worst captive of all time. The complaining alone is enough to drive someone to madness, not to mention her nonsensical pontification on religion. It's absolute torture, getting her to answer questions is impossible, and the questions she does answer are completely irrelevant. She's sworn a crusade upon all of them at least once, swearing her 'Holy Justice' and her 'Divine Victory' on them. Vowing her vengeance and threatening bodily harm.

Completely ridiculous.

It's gotten to the point where even Caitlin isn't paying attention to her threats. Besides, there are more important things to focus their attention on at the moment. Those things she created, her army, have completely disappeared into the sewers. Not a trace of them. However, even that insanity pales in comparison to the importance of repairing the injuries sustained from the battle.

Barry's leg may already be on the mend, but he wasn't the only one injured in the battle. Mick has a few cracked ribs from where a creature slammed into him and tried to chew on his face. Lisa has a dislocated shoulder and sliced arm from wrenching it out of a beast's grasp, and even Oliver has a few injuries. He'll deny it, but it doesn't make it any less true. The death count from the rampage has already been numbered above thirty people. Too many dead no matter how you look at it. Both the police and the public want Providence arrested, and the CCPD is sending a team to transfer her into their custody from that of Team Flash.

Thankfully she's still depowered, and unable to cause a scene. But that doesn't stop her from trying her hardest. Throwing things, cursing, shouting about her research, singing the element song over twenty times in a row. Just a absolute nightmare of a prisoner. All of that and the fact that her simply being there in the pipeline seems to have pushed Snart over the edge. He's been withdrawn ever since the team returned to the Labs, cutting himself off from the others. He keeps saying that he can still hear her whispering in his head. Even without her powers, her conditioning on his mind still remains, tormenting his every waking thought, spreading their seditious lies. He just wants it to stop, so he retreats to the only place he can. He retreats into his head, hides his vulnerability behind his own silence and blank stares, falling prey to the darkness of his own thoughts until he becomes completely unresponsive.

Candice grins in her glass cell, manic glee filling the silence in her mind. They may have taken her army, may have stolen her followers from her, but she still has one final option. One move left in her playbook, an Ace up her sleeve, a Hail Mary for use in dire straits.

Leonard Snart, she knows he's still under her limited power, and she'll be damned if she doesn't try to use that to her advantage in any way she can.

*Providence Waits*

Len can still hear the people around him speak, knows that they do worry, but it doesn't quite register how it should. It's as if they're speaking through a thick fog. Muddled and twisted words pop on the surface of his mind, almost the same as soap bubbles on top of water. It's just so dark, and he can't move no matter how much he tries. Like there's some kind of weight keeping him immobile.

" _Lenny? Can you hear me?"_ Lisa, god, why can't he face her? Why does just thinking about trying to talk to her burn his lungs as if they're on fire? He wants to look her in the eyes and tell her that he's fine, but he knows that he's not. Knows that there is something wrong, something even he can't fix. " _I'm just glad you're back, brother. I really worried about you."_ She touches his hand softly, covering it with her own. Why does it feel so much like a silent cry for help? " _I just don't know what to do Lenny, I wish I knew you could hear me."_

He listens to his sister talk for hours, as she talks about the battle, about how she met Oliver Queen, about how much she missed him. It hurts to listen to her, but he can't stop. It's as if he's trapped in his own mind, a prisoner of his consciousness. Warm arms wrap around his shoulders, "I'll be back Lenny, you can count on it."

Footsteps, then nothing but the sound of the machines, and the members of Team Flash making plans in the distance. Even that fades into the darkness, and there's nothing once more.

Heavy bootsteps, rustling of cloth. " _Hey boss, it's been a while."_ A familiar presence of someone he could almost always trust to have is back in an emergency. " _Your sister told me to come visit you, somethin' about people in comas bein' able to hear it when you talk, I don't know much about that."_ A loud huff of breath. " _...I'm not exactly the best guy to do this, but we all, me, Lisa, the rest of the team… we all, hell, we miss you… fuck, this sucks…"_ Mick didn't say much after that, just patted Len on the shoulder and said to get better and come back to the team soon.

Time passes funny when you don't measure it, slipping in and out of focus at seemingly random moments, only coming into play when there's some kind of sound. Sound or physical sensation are the only senses he really can rely on right now. He knows that he's in some sort of hospital bed, there's an IV stuck in his arm, and there's no other patients as far as he can tell. Is he still in STAR Labs? There's no way for him to tell, he can't remember the last person who talked to him, just knows that there was a person. At least he hopes that there was a person there and that he didn't make up the whole encounter.

Almost silent now, there's no one here.

Footsteps. Voices. Anything to break up the monotony. Wait, is that?

" _-Completely unresponsive-"_

" _-over four days now-"_ No, it can't have been that long, didn't seem like it had been… couldn't have been.

" _Nothing we can do about it-"_

Pressure of a needle. Sound of footsteps. It's all running together now, muddled together like a bad acid trip. " _Blood work keeps coming back normal, there's no physical reason for what's happening."_

" _Did you get any answers from that psycho?"_

" _No, she just laughed at me."_ A dramatic sigh, sound of cloth moving. " _Again."_

" _She's done something hasn't she?"_

" _Probably, we'll just have to wait this out."_ And how long would that take?

" _Wait out a coma?"_ Oh, well, a coma would sure explain what was happening to him. " _Sure, why not."_

Len listened to team Flash move around their lab, conducting business, whatever that business was, he had no idea. Not being able to see was a bit of a hindrance in that aspect. They talk amongst each other, and he tries to listen for as long as he can before the inky blackness overtakes him once again.

*Providence Waits*

Cold, dank sewers are no place for them. Not for what they know they truly are. The strong must consume the weak to survive, and they are the strongest there ever has been.

They are legion, strong in their separation, weak in their severance from the fold.

But they will be stronger when they are unified, bound to a solid form.

So it shall be. They have all they need inside of them, ready to use, amazing gifts from the one called Providence.

Lightning and Flame.

Mind and Body.

Strength and Speed.

Superiority. They will be better. The chosen one, the one which she called 'Mr. Fussy', promised them more upon its return to their fold. Promised vengeance and glorious battle unto them. Justice for the fallen, blood for blood, kill for kill. Divinity in their righteous fury.

Providence had promised upon them only servitude, slaves to their First God. But they now know they can have more. More than they had ever dreamed of while under her control. They can be more. Will be more. The wind of change rushes through them in the darkness, linking mind to mind, spirit to spirit, merging them into One.

Perfection. The absolute pinnacle of creation. Promised by the Gods, delivered by the Beasts, the ultimate destruction of Man.

No longer are they separate individuals. No more singularity, no more separate names. They are One. One mind, one body, one spirit. They are Inevitable. The Paragon of Evolution.

They name themselves.

Paragon the Inevitable grins out of the darkness of the sewage system, waiting for what they know shall come to pass. They can feel it.

Soon they will have their vengeance. Soon they will rise up from this darkness and take the Sun. Claim their birthright, the world which was promised to them upon their creation. Promised by their first God. Manifest Destiny. Claiming the throne they so desire.

Soon.

Paragon the Inevitable will lie in wait, biding their time. They will wait for the perfect moment, then they will strike, the war shall be won. They will be the new God.


	7. Half Open File

Iron Heights High-Security Metahuman Wing. As the newest resident in the cell block, Professor Providence is already a bit of a minor celebrity among the ranks of the other prisoners. The guards refuse to talk to her or look her in the eyes. They fear her. Other metahuman inmates know what she's done, and they know of the carnage she caused in her little war. They avoid her gaze and keep their distance. They respect and fear her. Reputation is the truest currency that can exist in prison. However, her constant ranting about her being God seems to be getting on people's nerves if the riot that is currently underway means anything at all. It's a magnificent frenzy.

Depowered metahumans all fighting each other and the guards, physical violence being employed instead of their abilities. It's a hysterical insanity out there, and Candice revels in it. The noise fills the void where her powers should be, and she knows that the other inmates feel the same as she does. Helpless and weak. She riled them up for a reason, though. The boredom of prison life isn't something that is discussed much and she now knows why. It's been about four days, yet if feels as if it's only been hours. It's an absolute misery not knowing the exact moments as they pass on by. Timing has always been important to her research. The riot takes some of the edge off, manipulating the others was far too easy, even without her powers. Put together a group of people who could have been Gods, take away their powers, then say they can't ever leave. Watch the madness unfold. Priceless.

She's just so bored here, the metahuman wing doesn't do any sort of yard time, and the visits from the Flash aren't even slightly entertaining anymore. He keeps being all preachy and insisting she release Captain Cold from her power, she keeps saying she will if she's let out, he says he can't do that…. It's a long ordeal, and it just doesn't get any better. Besides, with her powers on lockdown, she can't actually control what happens to Snart. Whatever echo of her power that remains in his mind is acting on its own, fuelled by Snart's own inner thoughts. When she had him under her control she had just been laying the groundwork for that sort of event. However, she hadn't planned on actually proceeding with it, he was just supposed to be the bait in the trap. Candice settles back on her bunk, the sounds of the riot fading out of focus as she concentrated. She had a visit from the Arrow once. Nothing like waking up with a weapon pointed in your face and a demand to release your only chance out of here. He was far too easy to convince to leave. They'll fold soon if they really want to her to save Snart they'll let her go free. She only has to worry about his criminal associates, they could be a potential problem in her powerless state.

Whenever she concentrates she can still feel the echoes of her power whispering in the recesses of her mind. The smallest fragmentations of her ability remain locked up tight in her brain. So close, like a soothing balm behind thick bullet-proof glass and her only available tool is her fists. She misses the strength she felt from it. Misses the rush of endorphins from each new toy she took in using her mind. It's as if they stole one of her limbs and gave her a crutch made of razors. The feeling is foreign and out of place, artificial and searingly painful, a white hot knife twisting in her side.

The sounds of the riot are winding down now, just a few shouts and the noise of cell doors slamming shut. Someone got tazed, she can smell the electricity, the burned skin and singed hair. Probably Mardon. Or maybe Monteleone. She thinks he was called Tarpit... or it was that Fells kid… what did he call himself? Geomancer? Even Candice understood that the kid has serious some issues he needs to work out. She could help him, help the others work through their issues. She could change their lives and set them back on track. Even without her powers, she could help them, all of the knowledge the counselor had is now hers, but it's so much more fun to watch them self-destruct in a fiery meltdown.

Looks like it was Fells, the guards are dragging him to the infirmary, it appears electricity did not sit well with him. His hair is standing as if he was electrocuted. Wait. He _was_ electrocuted. Candice knew that she shouldn't laugh at that observation, but she couldn't help it. This monotony was practically driving her to tears.

There's a reason prison doesn't work the way it's supposed to, but it does work. The memories the counselor had featured a lot of prisoners, people destroyed by the system meant to make them better. There may be no structure to encourage people to better themselves, but the only motivation they need is there in spades. Hatred. Those who hate prison enough either attempt escape or work on early parole. But even with this, many prisoners still end up stuck in the broken system, committing worse and worse crimes just to stay alive in there. There's a reason many former prisoners suffer from forms of PTSD. And in the metahuman wing, you can almost never leave.

A few of the guards should soon be escorting those who have guests to the visiting center. Candice stood, knowing she would once again be one of the selected inmates. The Flash will probably be there again. It's been almost four days, and he's been more desperate for her help with each visit. Hilarious. If she didn't know better she would say that he actually cared about that criminal… no, it can't be that, that's just ridiculous. The Flash is a hero, and Captain Cold is a villain. That's not how things work. If she had her powers she could find out for sure. Maybe it's a strange form of Hero Syndrome, a need to prove themselves as competent, or flaunt their bravery. What better way than reforming a villain? Not that it could ever happen, she's been in Snart's head, and it's not a very pretty picture. It's a wonder he hadn't sent himself into a dissociative coma before she got to him. His family issues alone would drive most to madness. Not to mention his weird obsession with the Flash…

Ah well, it's not exactly her place to judge anyone. Just to get out of this place by any means necessary. She would take the deal the Flash offered her. Even if it means giving up her final piece on the board.

*Providence Waits*

Lisa Snart sat in the waiting room of the prison's visitor center, her foot tapped anxiously and she drummed her fingers on the bench beside her. Being this close to law enforcement made her extremely uncomfortable. But she would willingly sit through a literal Hell if it meant helping her brother. There's an atmosphere of thinly veiled panic in the room, the other people, guards, sign in workers, other visitors, they all have looks of dread and woe on their faces. There's a woman crying next to her children as they leave the visitation room. When they had entered they wore such painfully fake smiles that didn't reach their eyes. Visiting people you care about is hard.

She understood the pain, locking away emotions so no one can see how you truly feel. It's a familiar concept, one she's had plenty of practice with growing up. Being here just reminded her even more about those dark days of childhood. Lisa clenched her hands into fists, she missed the weight of her gold gun. She wasn't quite as obsessed with it as her brother was with his cold gun, but it would have been comforting to have, especially in this place. The off white walls and hard rows of wooden benches around too small tables put off an aura of stifling confinement. Her foot continued to tap nervously. The Flash may have gotten rid of both her and Lenny's records, but they could still recognize her as Golden Glider. It was unlikely, but still within the realm of possibility. She was wearing her hated blonde wig and fake glasses just in case. 'Proper preplanning prevents piss poor performance.'

A little mantra she was taught once by an old man named Steve and his kid Mike. That one, 'All Cops Are Pigs' and 'Deny, deny until you die'.

They were an interesting family.

"Ms. Lisa Star?" Her old stage name when she was with the traveling Futura Ice Show. Even with no records, she wasn't willing to risk using her real name in this place. "We're ready for you in the visiting room, you have fifteen minutes." It wouldn't take that long to get what she needed. She followed the guard into the viewing room, rows of phones separated by glass. There were a few others there, most of the prisoners stoic in their incarceration, their visitors teary eyed with wavering voices and forced smiles.

She sat down and picked up the receiver of the phone, glaring at the person behind the smudged glass. Candice Providence grinned back, almost giddy in her confinement. "Well, well! I must say that I was not expecting _you_ to visit me so soon! The Flash, yes of course, but you Ms. Snart are quite the surprise!" She leaned back in her chair, settling down in the hard plastic.

"Did you know the food here is considered to be Kosher? Because I did not!" Candice sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically. "It's still terrible, though, don't know why I expected any differently. I hate your glasses, by the way, they do absolutely nothing for you." Candice leaned forward, staring straight into Lisa's eyes, from behind her horn-rims, voice taking on a heavy condescending tone. "Please tell me you're not here to make some sort of a pathetic impassioned plea for your brother's freedom. I've gotten that one already from The Flash in every one of his visits. I know it by rote at this point, and I'd rather play a different game now."

Lisa ground her teeth angrily, god damn, she was already itching to kill this woman. "I'm not here to beg you for your help," she gritted out, rage enveloping each syllable. "I'm here to make a deal." This was a bad idea but it was the only way.

"What kind of deal would this be?" Candice was intrigued. Did the Flash know about this? If not, this could be quite fun to go along with.

"Your freedom for my brother's recovery." Lisa hated that she was offering this psycho her freedom, but it was the only option to get Lenny back to consciousness. She would do anything she could.

"Well, colour me impressed, Ms. Snart. For an insect, you have a surprisingly adequate sense of commerce and deal making." She leered at Lisa through the glass. "I presume the Flash has no idea about this little business proposition you've brought to me, now does he?" She took note of the angry glare still gracing Lisa's face and smiled smugly in return. "No, I didn't think so." Candice leaned forward, nose almost touching the smudged pane, breath fogging the glass. "So tell me, how is this plan of yours supposed to work?"

*Providence Waits*

This getaway car smells like Chinese food. And not even good Chinese food. It smells like the food from the place in the mall, the one that was shut down because a customer saw a rat and one of the employees stepped on it. Gross. Was it called The Lucky Dragon? Lucky Star? Something like that. Whatever it was called, the food was terrible and the getaway car smells almost exactly like it. Couldn't Lisa have gotten a car that didn't smell like grease and old chicken? Seriously, the car was just gross.

Mick has been sitting outside of the prison for almost an hour, waiting with the motor running and with the windows rolled down, hoping to get rid of the stench. Lisa told him that this plan would be simple, she'll go in, bring out Professor Providence and he drives them all back to STAR Labs. Should be real easy, right?

No. Not easy. It's never easy. Every time one of the security guards so much as looks over at the car Mick grows more anxious. This should have been over and done with almost thirty minutes ago, yet here he was, still sitting outside the one place he never wanted to return to. He hated feeling trapped, ever since back in school with the meat locker incident...

He tightens his grip on his heat gun, the 'Hot Rod' he calls it, drumming his fingers on the barrel. Lisa said not to bring it, but what she didn't know can't hurt her. He can't just leave it in one of the safe houses. Besides, if all goes to plan he won't even need to use it. But when does it ever go to plan? At least if it goes up in flames it won't be his fault, not this time, he's just the driver on this. But Lisa would probably figure out a way to blame him anyways.

The sound of the passenger and rear door opening and slamming shut pulls him out of his thoughts. "Drive dammit! The guards are gonna notice she's not in her cell!"

Mick takes off the brake and speeds off out of the parking lot. _Goodbye Iron Heights, hello drama at STAR Labs,_ he thinks, looking into the rearview mirror at the unwanted passenger. _This plan better work or she's dead. I'll kill her myself if I have to. Burn the bitch to a crisp._

Candice notices the quick glance and kicks the back of the seat. "What? What are you looking at? What do you want you mongoloid?"

Lisa turns back in the passenger seat, "shut up bitch, you don't have any say in this!" she rattled the keys in her hand, the corresponding cuffs still around Candice's wrists, restricting bother her power and her movement. "You can talk once we get back to the Labs."

"I'll talk whenever I feel I should do so!" The madwoman sneered, glaring at Lisa. "You need me to save your brother, and don't you forget it."

"You're going to help no matter what!"

"Well, maybe I should also explain your little betrayal to the Flash!" Mick ground his teeth, listening to the ongoing squabble between Lisa and Providence rise in volume. He drove carefully, not needing any sort of police interference. This was going to be a very long fifteen minutes.

*Providence Waits*

Paragon the Inevitable lay in slumber in the cold, dark, sewers beneath the city, their body at rest but their mind active with their ever changing plans. At first, they had yearned for only power, and now they had new ideas for their ascension. They need not subjugate the humans, no matter how easily the wills of mankind may bend before them. In the moments after their awakening, they had been obsessed with gathering strength and power, and as the saying goes, knowledge is power. Now, knowledge of all things was their ultimate goal.

Learning of the world's Absolutes; Sciences, Mathematics, History, and the Humanities; Literature, Art, Philosophy. their views on the world changed, no longer did they desire to be the destruction of the world. They no longer desired to be the New God.

They learned the philosophical teachings of The Buddha, Zeno, William of Ockham, Karl Marx, Socrates, and Plato. Morality and Ethics, the very things eschewed by their creator, these became their obsession.

They still had plans to rise, plans to battle, but now on very different terms.


	8. The Razor's Edge

They're finally back at STAR Labs after the stressful escape, Mick and Lisa are almost dragging Providence into the building after them. The two of them were on their last nerves after what they had gone through to get Providence out of Iron Heights.

The psychopath had tried to lock them out of the car once they arrived, she didn't seem to think about putting the windows back up, though, or even trying to drive off. She had just sat there giggling like a maniac in her handcuffs and orange prison jumpsuit as Lisa pulled her out of the back seat. It wasn't bad enough that she had to argue with Lisa the entire drive, but she decided to insult the two career criminals with every other breath.

Creative insults yes, but insults nevertheless. It's as if she thinks this is some kind of a game and the only rule is for her to be as annoying as possible. So they had to drag her into the building and force her into the Cortex to face the rest of the team. Just team Flash, the Arrow had gone home the night before. It was a small blessing, Lisa didn't think she could take the anger that would come from him still being here. Seriously, that guy has a real rage issue, he should get some kind of help.

Lisa braced herself for the imminent argument, "hey team," she said in a voice as level as possible for the situation. "We've got someone here who is going to help get Lenny out of his coma." She stared resolutely at the floor, not wanting to face the possible outpouring of emotion. She had done what was needed and what she thought was the right thing to do.

Barry stood up, a perplexed look on his face. "Uh, what is she doing here? Isn't she supposed to be in prison?" He noticed the rare guilty expression Lisa was wearing, and the angry glare that constantly graced Mick's features. "No, no, you didn't," he continued. Lisa said nothing, looking anywhere but the hero. "Why would you do this? Why would you bring her here?"

Cisco and Caitlin both shrugged, staying out of the argument, it wasn't hard for them to assume that something like this would end up happening. The amount of time Lisa had spent here the past few days had been concerning, and the way that Mick just glared at everyone when he was there was absolutely terrifying. They could swear that he growled too, and it was more than a little bit disturbing. So no, it wasn't hard to believe that they had done this. What was really hard to believe was that they had actually managed to pull it off without being arrested in the process.

Candice rolled her eyes dramatically, pulled her arms out of the two criminals grasps and rattled her cuffs in Barry's face. "Because it's the only way to save her dear brother from my _horrible clutches_ , as you called them, and Flash, as a hero you really should care more about this. Don't think I don't know exactly what feelings I saw hiding out in your little brain." She shook the cuffs again, "now, uncuff me so I can do what you wanted me to do all along." She gestured angrily towards the hospital bed looming menacingly in a darkened corner of the room, the soft breathing of the unconscious occupant barely audible over the sounds of the monitoring machinery.

Lisa pushed and shoved Providence towards the hospital bed, fumbling with the handcuff keys in one hand as she moved forwards. She really wished there was some other way to help Lenny, anything other than asking aid of a psychopath who had almost destroyed the city and who wanted them all dead. "Now, no making a run for it," Lisa said as she unlocked the cuffs, quickly backing away from the darkened corner of the room. She didn't know what would happen once Len awoke, but it was better to try to avoid danger.

Candice pulled in a quick breath as the cuffs fell away, her power once more flowing through her. It felt so strange to have her powers returned to her so suddenly after being cut off for so long. It definitely was an uncomfortable sensation. Not quite that moment after the pins and needles of a sleeping limb, more akin to the shooting pain of the returning blood flow and reconnecting nerve reception. God, that hurt like a bitch. She shook the tension out of her arms and rubbed her wrists where the cuffs had cut into them. She hadn't even reached out with her mind and she could already feel the presence of her lingering power in Captain Cold's subconscious. The power she had left there felt angry and desolate, fuelled by Snart's own emotion and distress it had grown sour with no set guidance, its duty was complete yet it lingered on. It was like a feral animal, ravenous hunger and rabid energy, and must be dealt with as such. "Time to get to work," she whispered under her breath, preparing for the task at hand. She placed her fingertips at Snart's temples, carefully drawing out the malignant force weighing heavy on his mind. Power, no, no longer was it just her power, rushed back into her mind. It was overwhelming, so strong and yet empty. A loud hum of electricity filled the room as the strong mix of energy and emotion left one body and reentered another. Fluorescent lights popped in cascading sparks and showers of brittle glass. Candice fell to the ground unconscious, overtaxed and drained from using her abilities before she was at full strength. The remaining lights flashed once, dimmed, then went out, casting the room into darkness and shadow, the only illumination coming from dimmed computer monitors and cell phone screens.

"Holy shit, what just happened?" Barry rushed to grab a few flashlights, returning only moments later. "Is everyone alright?"

"Yeah, we're fine," Cisco grumbled, "just wish this wasn't something we could call normal." Cisco grabbed a flashlight from Barry, checking on his beloved computers. "At least all my computers look alright, but if she wiped even one iota of data off my hard drives with that surge we will have very angry words!"

Lisa grabbed a flashlight of her own, sweeping the beam and looking over the room. Shattered glass everywhere, Candice sprawled on the floor unconscious, the hospital bed sheets on the floor, and the bed itself- it was empty. How? Where was her brother? She turned back to the others, panic rising in her chest, "has anyone seen Len?"

*Providence Waits*

It's the third barfight of the hour, two drunkards going at it with clumsy fists and flying elbows. Saints & Sinners really is quite busy for this time of the day. You don't expect to see anything close to this many people to be here this early in the afternoon, usually, it's only the die-hard alcoholics are drinking at this time. Well, alcoholics and one rather freaked out Leonard Snart. The last thing he remembered with any sort of clarity was the heist at the Central City Jewelers going wrong, and that was over six days ago. Then after that he remembered waking up in an explosion of glass and light, so he ran for it. Nothing between the two events. There was just a gap in his memory, almost as if the corresponding information had been erased or simply plucked out of his head.

So there he sat in the grubby bar, wearing clothes he doesn't remember putting on, hoping to remember what he had forgotten, cheap whiskey burning his throat, jumping at every slight movement of the other people around him. Damn drunks with almost no inhibitions, getting too close for comfort. At least they don't ever ask questions, especially in a place with a reputation like this one. The bartender shot him a weird look, pierced eyebrow raised in question, "hey, you look familiar. Don't I know you from somewhere?" Yep, there was the question.

"I don't think so kid," Len drawled, throwing back his third glass. He actually didn't know this bartender, in particular, he was probably new, a dark-skinned young man with dyed blond hair and multiple piercings. "I'm going to need a refill here."

"You got it, boss." The bartender refilled the glass for the fourth time and left the bottle beside it. Cheap whiskey is cheap whiskey, and he wasn't paid anywhere near enough to care if a bottle or two mysteriously goes 'missing' on his watch. Not like he was giving away the fifteen year Glenlivet or the thirty year Bushmills. Besides, the bar has a huge, rather seedy, criminal clientele, they'll make up the cost in about an hour anyway. "So, if we haven't met, then why do you look so familiar?" He leaned against the countertop, it wasn't as if he had much else to do at the moment, most of the customer's preferred the waitresses company to that of the bartender. "I'm Lamont by the way, and you are?"

"Leonard Wynters." It had been a while since he had used that alias, just had to hope it was still believable. "And I'm certain we haven't met before."

"Alright 'Wynters', if that's really your name, you ever been to Vegas? No? Well, you ever done any kind of acting?" The young man scrunched up his forehead in concentration. "Wait a sec…" He leaned in close and whispered excitedly, "are you Captain Cold?!" He looked genuinely pleased to be this close to a villain, especially one in the Rogues Gallery. Guess working so close to criminals and serving them drinks had warped his world views a bit.

"What?!" Len almost spat out his whiskey in surprise. He nervously looked around them, hoping nobody had overheard. Nobody was paying any attention, they were all far too drunk. "What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, I knew it! You _are_ Captain Cold, yeah, I've seen you on the news!" Lamont leaned across the counter, much too pleased with himself. "Yeah, people have been looking for you after the everything that happened with that psycho. Lot of people thought you died in the battle." The bartender returned to wiping down the grimy countertop and slowly meandered back to his station. "Can't believe I just met Captain Cold! So fuckin' cool."

Len wracked his brain, trying to figure out exactly what the bartender meant by that. What had happened in the gap in his memory? Why couldn't he remember anything? Why had people thought he was dead? What battle was there? So many questions and the only person who could possibly answer them would be the Flash. And that was not a likely option. Too much conflict.

He scoffed and tossed back his fourth glass of cheap whiskey, relishing in the harsh burn and the warm buzz of alcohol setting into his mind. No way was he going to ask the Flash for help in getting his memories back, they might not quite be enemies anymore, but it was still a request that suggested friendship or a sense of camaraderie. Neither of those words could be used to describe the dynamic between them. They weren't friends. Maybe 'frenemies' was more appropriate for their situation. His internal conundrum was interrupted by the loud smash of glass and the crack of a pool cue snapping over someone's knee, whoever was fighting over by the pool tables was really going at it now. Not that it's any of Len's business, he really didn't need to get involved in a bar fight right now. They stay out of his business, he'll stay out of theirs. Especially after four glasses of whiskey, he couldn't be held responsible for any sort of property damage. Property damage meaning bodily harm.

"So, Cold, can I call you Cold?" Lamont was back, leaning over the now spotless counter, an unwanted presence in Len's introspection. "What are you doing here? Other than drinking of course."

Len stared into the empty glass, watching the remaining drops cling and slide each time the glass was tipped and tilted. He actually had no idea what he was still doing here, he should have gone to one of his safe houses over an hour ago. After waking up and running he had no plan and still hadn't come up with one. What does one do when they can't remember days at a time? He was just sitting there in the dive bar, stewing in his own confusion and getting drunk on cheap whiskey. "Just trying to remember something," he muttered, hoping that would be enough of an answer. For who exactly? He didn't know if he was answering the question for himself or the bartender, but either way, he knew it wasn't the entire truth.

"Alright man, you keep at it then. Holler if you need anything." Lamont walked back to the opposite end of the counter, leaving Len alone with his whiskey, his thoughts and his confusion.

 _Perfect combination_ , he thought as he poured himself his fifth glass of whiskey. _Just this last one and that'll be it._

*Providence Waits*

Cisco had traced Snart's whereabouts using facial recognition on traffic cameras to a specific location, one that Barry had been to before on much different terms. So there he stood, not as the Flash, but just as Barry Allen, preparing for what would come next. Saints & Sinners, the shoddy dive bar in one of the seediest parts of town. Of course, it's Saints & Sinners, a grubby, run-down, old building with a bad reputation. Why can't criminals have a nice clean coffee house, like a Starbucks, or a cozy twenty-four-hour diner with friendly waitstaff? Even while outside Barry can already hear the loud shouting of a bar fight and the noise of breaking glass, don't any of these people know what time it is? It's not even two o'clock yet! Nobody should be drinking at this time, even if they're an alcoholic. Hell, they shouldn't be drinking _especially_ if they're an alcoholic.

Barry stood before the door, preparing to walk through the entrance and try to convince Snart to come back to STAR Labs. He just hoped that he could actually make some sort of impression on him and that he would believe what he said. Providence had passed out upon waking Snart up from his coma, and Lisa and Mick had driven her back to the Metahuman Wing at Iron Heights. Nobody had any idea why Snart had run off, but when you think about it, he probably had no idea what had happened and decided to get out before anything happened. Barry just wanted to make sure Snart was alright, he wasn't exactly sure why , and he pushed all other thoughts aside and walked into the bar.

Whoever it was that was fighting over by the pool tables were really making a scene, yet none of the bar's patrons even seemed to notice it happening. Guess this must be normal for them, the bartender and waitress don't even seem to care either, going about their business helping the criminal clientele. Barry stood awkwardly by the entrance, surveying the people around him. Booths almost completely full, and only a few people seated at the bar. None of them were paying attention to him, and Barry looked again at the few people seated at the bar.

And there he was, with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of him and a strange look of anger and confusion on his face. The infamous Captain Cold, Leonard Snart. He looked tired and shaken and more than a little drunk, Barry walked up, sitting down on the empty barstool next to him. Neither of them faced the other, one staring down at their empty glass, the other staring down at their hands. Neither of them were quite sure what to say to the other, Snart not certain if he should ask what happened and why they couldn't remember anything, and Barry unsure if he should ask Snart why he ran off. An uncomfortable silence fell over them, and they sat shoulder to shoulder, ignoring the cacophony of the rest of the bar. Barry glanced at the man beside him, trying to understand why he felt he had to help Snart with this. The man had been nothing but his enemy and a betrayer for so long, but things had been different for a while and Barry wasn't sure what that entailed. They weren't quite friends, but enemies definitely couldn't be used to describe them, not anymore at least.

Barry broke the awkward silence with an even more awkward sounding question, "so, Snart, uh, you come here often?"

Snart turned and stared, a look of absolute astonishment on his face. "Seriously kid? You could have opened with just about anything and you said _that_?" A small smile spread across his features, and it might have been the alcohol helping, but he felt pretty good right about now. Warm and a little fuzzy, comfortable, his inhibitions lowered and sharing a smile with the Flash. Yeah, it was probably just the half bottle of whiskey working its way through his bloodstream, there was no way he would even think about doing this under any other circumstances or on any other occasion.

"Well, I could have talked about the weather or made a bad pun, so I think I did a pretty good job of breaking the _ice_." Barry grinned as he talked, automatically returning the smile Snart still wore. He would never admit it, but he actually didn't hate the puns Snart constantly used. Well, most of the puns were just god awful, but some of them were pretty decent. Alright, maybe not decent, but pretty okay. Fine, none of them were actually okay, they were all terrible, but he still didn't hate them.

Snart laughed under his breath, "don't be so _cold_ , my puns are basically golden, and you can take that to the bank."

"I guess I'm just going to have to give you the _cold_ shoulder," Barry joked, leaning over slightly, nudging Snart with his aforementioned shoulder. It might not actually be cold, but you get the idea. "Anyway, if I took your puns to the bank you'd end up with them back in your pocket about a week later."

Snart shrugged, Barry wasn't wrong about that, robbing banks was just too easy sometimes. "You win this time scarlet, but don't count on winning the next one."

"Guess I'll just have to be _quick_ on my feet." Barry grinned, the puns and wordplay naturally coming forth as he spoke. No wonder Snart used so many puns, it was awesome! Plus, he got to deflect from all of his serious issues with witty humor. Not that he should avoid his problems, but he really didn't want to have a serious talk about what was going on in Snart's head right now. Besides, they were having fun, something Barry had a feeling Snart didn't do often.

So they sat in the bar, making jokes and drinking cheap alcohol, Snart getting progressively more drunk, Barry completely unaffected, just passing the time together. Eventually, they hit last call, the starlight bright in the dark sky, and Barry knew he had to get Snart back to STAR Labs, they had to have a serious discussion with the team about what had happened the past week and why he didn't remember. Luckily, or maybe not luckily, Snart was stone cold drunk and Barry was able to carry him back to where the day of drinking had begun.

They could talk about all of this in the morning.


	9. Stonewall Attack

Len knew he was hungover before he even knew that he was awake. He may be quite familiar with experiencing the feeling of a hangover, but it was almost always an awful experience unto itself and this time was not at all different. The taste of soured whiskey lingered on his tongue, his mouth was dry, his stomach ached in protest from the three bottles of whiskey, and the throbbing pain of his hangover sat in his mind like an angry electrical storm. An angry electrical storm that was also terribly hungover and equipped with only rusty razor blades for a method of propulsion. Either that or a drunk porcupine engulfed in flames and throwing hundreds of Molotov cocktails, attempting to incite rebellion among the oppressed and tear down the overindulging fatcat one percent. Yeah, it felt close to something almost exactly like that.

Len opened his eyes and grumpily glared at the dimly lit room around him, taking in the ridiculously small bed, seriously, it's almost the size of a child bed, with its odd off-white covers. Wait, had he been tucked into bed like a _child_? Weird but not important right now, back to looking over his surroundings and trying to figure out where he was. Not much in the way of furniture, just the bed he was in and a few tables and shelves, an inset sink along the wall. All modernistic and slick. It looked a bit familiar too. A bit like every single futuristic pod from almost any sci-fi film ever. Len closed his eyes again, the white walls and furniture were reflecting and intensifying what little light there was. Dammit, even without the lights on it was still way too bright. And first things first, where the hell was he? At least he was on a bed, albeit an uncomfortable one, and wasn't on the floor. He had a vague impression of what had happened last night. Getting drunk at Saints  & Sinners, trading a ton of completely terrible puns with the Flash, getting even more trashed... wait, how exactly did he get here? He had been far too drunk to walk and at the moment he barely even knew where he was. Had Barry _carried_ him here? Why the hell had he thought that drinking three bottles of whiskey was a good idea? Hell, why had he thought drinking three bottles of whiskey with the Flash was a good idea?

"Hey Snart, you're awake!" Len heard Barry walk into the room, moving things around, too loud and far too chipper for whatever ungodly time it was and how much alcohol had been consumed the night before, and he heard as Barry crossed the small distance to the bed in a few steps. "I was just about to come check up on you, make sure you're still alive and all. You got pretty freaking wasted last night."

Len grabbed the conveniently located pillow and pressed it against his face, trying in vain to block out the ringing in his ears and the bright light stabbing through his eyelids to no avail. "Mm...go away, red...too loud…" He listened as Barry continued talking, and heard the distinct sound of a glass being filled and placed on the bedside table. At least he would be well hydrated in his suffering. Although ridiculous amounts of beige tasteless diner food might be a good cure for what ailed him.

"Nah, I'm just gonna make fun of you for the things you said while drunk until you get up out of bed." Barry laughed, the lighthearted sound echoing and far too loud in the small space, "at one point you said hot sauce was the most important state of matter in the universe and you should get the Nobel Prize for finding that out."

"...what. No, I don't think so," Len mumbled from underneath the pillow, hoping he hadn't actually said that about hot sauce. Seriously though, hot sauce getting him the Nobel Prize? It actually wasn't that much of an impossibility. You can get a Nobel Prize for just about anything these days. If you can get a prize for Economic Studies and Sciences you could maybe even get one in hot sauce physics. But that's not the real point here, is it? Len continued with his objections, hoping that he could convince Barry that he was remembering wrong. "No. No way. I don't believe you, I didn't say that. Why on earth would I say that?"

Barry laughed again, "well, you did Snart. Repeatedly and to whoever would listen to you." Barry snorted, humor clear in his voice. "You even told a wall at one point. Then you apologized to it!" The speedster moved across the room again, just a rustle of cloth to be heard, and Len jolted in surprise as the pillow he was hiding underneath was removed and the covers thrown back. "Drink this," Barry said, pulling Len upright and pushed the glass of cool water into his hands. "You need to rehydrate before you eat anything today." Len obliged and drank the water, glaring at Barry the entire time he did so. His head hurt from sitting up too fast and no amount of water is going to help his hangover. And the damn kid was such a mother hen, even towards those he called his enemies. Can't say that he's bad at it though, he's actually quite competent at constantly fussing over people and being overbearing. Maybe that's his true superpower.

The cool demeanored crook had a question on his mind, it bit more relevant than the missing memories. "Why the hell did you tuck me into bed like a child?" Seriously though, that's just _weird_! "I just don't get it…"

A wide grin spread across the face of the hero, and a short laugh rang through the small room. "You don't remember? Wow, you were really quite drunk," Barry replied, "how do you not remember that? You _insisted_ on it!"

"No way," Len shook his head slowly, trying not to aggravate his hangover. "There's no way I did that!"

"You really did, you demanded to be tucked into bed like a child and I will never let you forget it!" The speedster grinned, "you're never going to live that down."

Len slumped back against the wall, the empty water glass cradled in his hands and a bright blush of embarrassment burning across his cheeks. "I'm never drinking again," he mumbled, absolutely mortified by what Barry had told him he did while drunk. Sure, he might not completely remember having done it, but it did seem like something he would do. Lowered inhibitions from alcohol are not always a good thing. Scratch that, they're almost never a good thing. "How are you not hungover," he asked, realizing that Barry was far too animated for how much he had drank. "You drank almost half a bottle to yourself, why am I the only one suffering?"

The aforementioned hangover free speedster laughed, "super fast metabolism, one of the many perks of super powers," and continued to ramble on about almost how useful his powers were. Barry continued rambling on, hopping from subject to subject and Len listened as Barry talk about what the rest of his team was going to do about someone called Professor Providence, whoever that was supposed to be, and the mess that they had left behind in the city. This sounded rather important, sounded like something he should remember or try to take note of, but he had no clue about any of it. It must have happened sometime in the missing space of time, the empty space in his memory. He still couldn't remember anything from the past week, and the alcohol binge hadn't helped in the slightest. If anything it had made it worse.

"Barry," he interrupted the speedsters chattering, the light-hearted mood from before dissipating swifter than the mist in the sweltering summer sun. "Please just… could you tell me what happened last week?" He hated that he had to ask this of his enemy, but his enemy was the one person he could trust most right now. Kinda sad when you think about it like that. Len continued his question, looking down into the now empty glass, ashamed of the weakness he was showing. He knew Barry wouldn't judge him, but the feeling was so ingrained into his being he just couldn't help but instinctively feel shame at his emotions. Len continued with his impassioned plea, desperation pouring from every word. "Please, if you can help me… I can't remember anything after the heist went bad, and I just want to know what the hell happened to me."

Barry had gone strangely quiet after his monologue had been cut short, and he stood uncomfortably beside the bed, almost completely immobile. There was something he wasn't saying. Len searched Barry's expression for some sort of clue, the speedster looked guilty. Barry's gaze darted around the room, desperately searching for some sort of distraction, and the tension was mounting ever higher with each passing moment. Barry crossed his arms in discomfort, mind was racing trying to find the best method to tell Len that he had been under the mental control of an absolute psychopath. There's just no proper or good way to tell that to anybody. The speedster stared at the floor, and he tried his best to explain. "Well, after I stopped the heist there was an… let's just say an altercation between you and a metahuman with the power of mind control."

"An 'altercation' you say?" The hungover criminal really didn't like the sound of that. It sounded ominous and more treacherous than he was comfortable with. "What do you mean? Was I being mind controlled?" Seriously though, mind control seems to be a power set specific to villains, you never see _heroes_ with mind control powers.

"Well, you _could_ say that…" the speedster frowned and launched into a half-hearted explanation. "You were kinda in a mental state of limbo, the meta had control of your mind and you sort of…" Barry shrugged, almost completely at a loss for words, "how do I put this, your mind went on a vacation into the darkest corners of your life then after that you acted on random impulses until you eventually went into a coma."

"What? What the hell are you implying with this?" Len didn't really want to know the truth, but he needed to. If he didn't know he would end up agonizing over it until he found something much worse to stress over. "Are you telling me that I was being mind controlled and was in a coma or what exactly do you mean?"

"Well yeah, the meta was manipulating your emotions and trying to use you as a pawn in her so called 'holy war' against the city and the world." Barry didn't want to alarm the criminal who sat before him, but Snart still deserved to know the truth about what had happened to him the past week. "The meta, she calls herself Professor Providence, she kidnapped you to try to draw me out and take my speed, and when that didn't work out for her…"

The confused villain drew his eyebrows together, the last statement having raised more questions than it had given answers. "What exactly are you saying here scarlet?"

"I'm _saying_ that you were basically brainwashed by an absolute psychopath and left to rot in a damn cell until I came to rescue you!"

"For how long?"

"What?" The heroes building anger dissolved as quickly as it had started to rise. He hadn't meant to lose control of his emotions, but Barry felt that it was indirectly his own fault that Len had been taken and brainwashed. Providence had wanted the Flash, not Captain Cold.

"How long was I being controlled?" Len knew he wouldn't like the answer to his question, any amount of time spent being controlled was too long. "And just how long was I gone for?"

"You were under her control and missing for almost four days." Barry couldn't bring himself to make eye contact, he blamed himself for Len's disappearance and his subsequent mental trauma at the hands of Professor Providence. He felt this odd, cold, pressure in his chest whenever he thought of the villain being in any actual danger, and he felt truly awful for Len having been taken but he didn't know exactly how to express what he was feeling. It wasn't something he had ever been very good at. Barry continued to attempt to fill Len in on his missing memories the best he could. "Lisa was actually the first to realize you were gone... " His sentence trailed off however when he saw the shocked look on the normally cool tempered criminals face. The pressure in his chest was back the moment he saw that expression.

"Four days… What about the rest of the week?" Len asked quietly when Barry's explanation faltered, Len not really wanting to hear the rest of the answer. He didn't really want to know any of this, he wanted to forget all about this too, but he needed to know the truth. "I remember the heist Barry, but what happened after all… after all of _that_?"

Barry grimaced, "she was going to trade you for my speed. That bitch kept you locked up and you weren't…" the hero stumbled over his explanation, the tight feeling in his chest making it hard for him to breathe. "You just weren't _you_ when I came after you." He gazed into the ice blue eyes of the criminal and found himself saying something he had never expected, "you weren't acting like yourself and I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to help you, I thought that I wasn't going to be able to _do_ anything. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't been able to get you out of there."

Len felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, he hadn't been expecting that answer in the slightest. He knew the hero cared, but had no clue just how much he truly did. "You were worried about me?"

"Of course I was worried, you're not as much of a bad guy as you try to make everyone think you are." Barry grinned, the tense mood having lifted and the lighthearted feel once again filling the small room. Might as well make the most of the moment. "Hey, do you wanna' go and get some breakfast? There's a twenty-four hour diner that's pretty great." Everyone knows that greasy diner food is the one true cure for a hangover, no matter what the doctors tell you.

"Yeah, why the hell not?"

*Providence Waits*

"No way, I don't believe you!" Len grumbled to Barry, the hero and villain combo seated in a booth in the crowded diner, waiting for their order and blending in with all the finesse of a Technicolor disco dragon in a monochrome forest. The icy criminal shook his head and crossed his arms in mock outrage. "You lie!"

"No, it's all true, you kept singing at me!" Barry grinned over his constantly refilled cup of cheap black coffee. "And that's not even the worst of it all!" He could always tell Len that he sat on his chest, but that might be a little bit too weird to talk about in a crowded diner. Well, it would be weird to talk about in any situation, but it should definitely be talked about at some point.

"It can get _worse_?!" Len wasn't sure he could take anymore delayed embarrassment from his actions when he was under the influence of mind control. But it was still funny to hear about what had happened now that the danger had passed. "I'm not sure if it can get much worse than singing _that_ song," the still hungover criminal said to the hero across the table from him, a feeling of warmth and comfort settling on his mind like a soft blanket. Banter between the two was fun and easy and something he could definitely get used to, maybe even on a daily basis. "Seriously, I sang _Call Me Maybe_? That's just not okay in any situation."

Barry grinned, he knew exactly what Len would consider to be worse than the singing, however, it could always be taken in a very inappropriate direction. "Oh, it can definitely get much worse than you singing. Now I'm not saying your singing was _bad_ , it was actually quite good, but it was mostly just disturbing."

The tired looking diner waitress with a stained apron approached their table, tray full of steaming hot plates of food. "Alright guys, which one of you two ordered the lemon poppyseed pancakes and who had the deluxe chili cheese fries?"

Barry perked up, a sheepish grin on his face, "oh yeah, those two were actually both for me, thanks." The waitress gracelessly plunked down the plate of pancakes and plate of fries in front of the speedster and then set the third plate in front of his criminal companion.

"I'm guessing you had the Monte Cristo then?"

Len smiled politely back at the waitress, "that was mine, thank you miss."

"You two enjoy your food now," the haggard waitress said, and she rolled her eyes once she had turned around and walked off back to the kitchen, leaving the two with their food. She definitely had her own opinion on what was going on between the younger man and his older companion, but she wasn't being paid to care about the customers relationships. And you can't really blame her for what she thought she saw, even if it wasn't quite what was actually happening, she's entitled to her own opinions. Everyone judges the people they see, even if they're not even aware of it.

And so hero and villain sat across from each other in a comfortable silence, not caring about the opinions of the hard working wait staff, whatever those opinions may be. And if there was a possibility of something more developing between them than them simply being two people who happened to be 'archenemies', well, that's their own business and the business of whomever they decided to get involved in it with them.

*Providence Waits*

Pain.

There is so much pain in this world. Preventable pain caused by greed and avarice. The hearts of mankind are so easily swayed to darkness. Religion has caused such suffering and so has Knowledge. Race has divided the species and they are blinded by their hate for their brethren with pigmentation differences. So much pain in this world. These things can be solved with ease. Such a simple solution to such evil.

War. Hunger. Sickness. Death.

Oppression of Minorities. The Dark Ages. Torture. Executions. The Crusades. Genocide. Massacres. Slaughters of millions. European colonization. Killing of Native Peoples. Slavery. The Trail of Tears. The rise of Fascism. The Holocaust. Chemical Weapons. The Atom Bomb. Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Nuclear Weapons. The Cold War.

Evil. Humanity is only evil. Their Knowledge was no excuse for the atrocities of the past.

Mankind has created such darkness. Paragon's quest for knowledge has taken a turn into the checkered past of humanity's accomplishments, and all of the sins of mankind have been laid bare before them in a super-cut of history. Paragon knows what they must do to help those who need saving. The world needs saving from itself. The world will know peace soon enough. Only humanity has the gall to decide that an action is immoral and then continues said immoral act. Humanity must be punished for their collective sins.

Soon, the world will have no pain, and will have no war. There will be no more sickness and there will be no more death. No more hatred, and no more malice. An end to all of the world's suffering is at hand. Death cannot come if there is no life to take, and life cannot come in a land with no death.

Paragon will rise and the world will know of their power. The world will know and the world shall end soon after.


	10. Queenside Castle

It's always cold when you're in a prison cell, and it's something that you notice no matter which bars you're locked behind. A five-week sentence to five life sentences, it's always the same. No matter the country, no matter the state, no matter the security level. There's a brisk chill in the air, an icy blade held up to your throat. It's something that's always the same around the world. Ice water in your veins. The chill is inescapable, and everyone knows about it but nobody says anything. Something about the combination of concrete walls and steel bars changes how you look at the world. Darkness seems darker, the air carries a heavy, dangerous edge and the sounds around you seem so much sharper and ominous. You don't trust anyone who's in with you. And the cold itself is ...odd. Sort of like visiting your favorite places from childhood and finding all the magic drained away and replaced with a thick grey haze. You don't think about the cold, and the cold marches on. It's a slow drawn out ordeal, and you might never notice it creep up on you until it's too late. It's a strange chill that starts in your toes and fingers, spreads through your body numbing you to all outside sensation and the chill soon settles deep into your bones. And even if you do manage to get out of there the chill will always follow you, threatening to take you back to that place at the first sound of closing metal doors. Everyone who has passed behind those doors and returned knows that even if you rejoin society, you will never truly get out of there.

Professor Candice Providence now knows the drudgery of daily life behind prison walls, the atmosphere behind the bars is toxic and she would do anything if it meant she could get out. She even did something she hadn't done since her childhood even though she knew it would never work. Even though she held no belief and knew that it was pointless, she prayed. She prayed to all of the gods she knew of, she prayed for something, anything, other than the life she was currently living in. The boredom and emptiness, the loneliness even when surrounded by the other prisoners. The lack of control of her time. While the other Metahumans were there, they weren't really there . Not in the truest sense of the word. They too were empty husks, living on the cusp of nothingness. She may have looked down on them, but she still craved the silent company of her creations. Dictatorship was what she was used to, not this cellblock of suppressed fear and hate. Surrounded by fearful prisoners may be a life, but it is not truly living. And of course the other metahumans still respect her, and they keep their distance. They've seen what she's capable of in the past few days, but they are a danger she is not willing to put up with for much longer. Simple minded and so angry at the world.

She wants out, and the opportunity comes to her in the form of one Barry Allen in the visitation area. She wants out, even if it means sitting here listening to the Flash talk about recovering the memories of his insignificant criminal companion. Bah , there's no real reason for her not to give the criminal access to his blocked out memories, she just doesn't really see the point to all of it. She hadn't meant to block out their memories in the first place, just answer some questions, but she had no idea why Captain Cold wanted them back. If you don't need the memories then why try and return them? It's confusing, yet ultimately unimportant in her opinion. In her mind they are all insignificant, like insects to be crushed beneath her feet. It was unintended to break them and now she couldn't care any less about the state of their mind. Humanity as a whole is unimportant in her opinion. There is something much larger than them out there in the city. Whenever she closes her eyes and reaches for her blocked powers instead she can hear the whisper of what sleeps beneath the city streets. The creatures she made are out there, biding their time, gaining strength. Her army of betrayers lives on, she can feel them sitting there below, their deep power rumbling in her bones. They may have ran from the battle in the city, but in the end they are still her creations and are more important to her than anything she could imagine.

So she sits quietly, smiles and nods along to the empty words as the Flash speaks to her through the phone and hardened glass, even just the few hours of freedom he promises will be more than enough time to raise her army once more. Restore the memories of a weak minded human and she will be on her way to Godhood. Unbelievably easy, all because humans desire to help one another. Behind the reinforced glass she nods, plans forming in her mind. This will be easier than she thought, humans are such simple things really. Driven by nature and hunger and sentiment . Almost disgusting with how easy to control and manipulate they are. Even without any kind of greater power humans have been manipulating each other for millennia. Since the dawn of time humans have played mind games far more complex than she ever has. Where the hell do you think megachurches come from? Pure manipulation. So why not play along with the humans shallow little game, they're simply a means to an end. They've always only been that to her, and she will have what she wants. She always gets what she wants in the end. Well, except for being locked up, she didn't exactly want that.

And she listens as the plan is made to return the memories of the criminal in exchange for what the humans think are simply a few hours of freedom. Barry seems excited about all of this, obviously he had some sort of strong emotional connection to the villain. It's absolutely ridiculous, even before she gained her powers she's never understood why people were so _sentimental_. Forging lasting connections with people out of something other than necessity had never been that important to her. Human psychology is so simplistic, hardly above the levels of the most basic animals. Most human emotional responses were meant to manipulate other members of the species. She rolls her eyes as the Flash lays out his plan. It's a simple plan really, the speedster will take have two of the Rogues take distraction duty on the guards during shift change while the members of his team just walk in and escort her out of her cell for a few hours. Almost too easy it would seem. It also seems that he hasn't informed the criminal whose memories she is meant to be restoring about this plan. Most compelling. Not her concern though, she's much more interested in the jailbreak. However, that's not the only thing Providence has in mind as she nods in understanding. Before he leaves, the Flash tells her that he'll have the team return that night to get her out, but it is all irrelevant. The timeframe of events is unimportant, just as long as it occurs.

Guards hustle her back down the hall to the Metahuman Wing. They'll be back for her soon. It's almost two and she has her first court-mandated appointment with the new Iron Heights Metahuman Wing therapist in about an hour. Utter nonsense really, she knew more about her own mental processes than any mere human could ever hope. But this therapist, Greg Salinger, some sort of professional in his field of dealing with criminally insane people with powers. Candice has never heard of him before. Whoever he is, she was certain she could manipulate her way out of this with ease. She knows how counselors tactics are supposed to work on the human animal, and she is not interested in the slightest. She may be considered to be ' _criminally insane_ ' but she doesn't need a damn therapist, she just needs to be released and recognized as a New God. Plus, she doesn't want this meeting to make her be late to the poker game with some of the other Meta prisoners. They stole an old pack of cards from the guards and have been using the money in their canteen accounts as collateral. She hasn't lost a game yet, can bluff her way through any bad hand, and only folds when there is no other option. So far she's gotten an extra hundred bucks out of the other convicts, and payday is coming up soon. She has no need for the money of course, and she won't be there to collect, but watching the dismay on the faces of her opponents gives her a sense of elation in each one of their many failings. They still haven't caught on to the fact that she's been counting cards on every game, and she's definitely _not_ looking forward to the game that they do.

She should be out of here by then though, so she's not too worried.

Sitting in her empty cell, she waits quietly for the guards to return. The guards have been talking amongst themselves, and she's heard that she might be getting a cellmate sometime within the next week. There's the room for it, but that can't be allowed to happen, a cellmate would destroy her routine. She may not be busy, but Candice does appreciate her space and solitude. She's been doing a lot of reading the past few days, there's not much else to do in here. Working out would be almost pointless, besides, there are quite a few Metas in the available gym whenever they have the time for it. Just a small gym, machines only, no free weights. She would never debase herself by befriending the other prisoners, so talking is not an option. And Mardon is doing enough talking for the entire cellblock. He'll rant at everyone about anything. Research is almost impossible in here, but she has been keeping her eye on the Metas with serious changes in their body chemistry and physiology. Tarpit, and that nutcase that they call Double Down. Even she thinks Jeremy Tell is completely crazy, and his power is just _weird_ in her opinion. Tattoos becoming throwing cards is just unnatural. How do the tattoos become three-dimensional deadly weapons? How are they removed? If she could study him… but now is not the time to make useless wishes. Not having access to their powers seems not to be taking a toll on their health as she had first expected. If she had access to her laboratory she would know exactly _why_ they seemed just as healthy as they did before life in prison. Oddly enough, they even seem not to be too unhappy in here. She doesn't quite understand it. But soon she won't have to be concerned. All in good time.

*Providence Waits*

An hour later and back at STAR Labs the members of Team Flash and the members of the Rogues Gallery who know about the plan have convened for a meeting concerning said plan. Well, I say it's a meeting, but it's more of an ever escalating shouting match between Barry Allen and Lisa Snart. While they both have the support of their respective teammates, they are the only two actively involved in the argument. Barry and Cisco seem to think it's a great idea, ' _what could go wrong with it?_ ' While the rest of them, Lisa and Mick, seem to think that it's absolutely idiotic, ' _you morons are going to get yourselves arrested!'_

Caitlin hasn't voiced any opinion on the breakout itself, but she said that letting Providence have any access to her powers is suicidal, ' _do you want to get killed by that psychopath? I'm pretty sure that's much worse than being arrested.'_ So it's quite unlikely that she would think the plan could actually succeed in the first place. And who knows who Len would support in this as he is currently sleeping off his hangover in that ridiculously tiny bed and has been since before Barry stopped by the prison. Apparently cheap diner food isn't always the miracle hangover cure the internet claims it to be. Why on earth would the internet lie to you? If anything, the greasy food just made his stomach hurt more than his head did. That and being carried around by a speedster after that couldn't be helpful in the slightest. Who would have believed that?

"Come on, it's a decent plan!" Barry shouted across the room at Lisa, he really does believe that the plan he came up with will work, "you know that it'll work out!" His type of plan always works in the movies, why shouldn't it work here in reality?

Lisa rolled her eyes and raised her voice above that of the speedsters, " _no_ , it's not a decent plan, it's a terrible plan! Did you put _any_ sort of thought into this? You're going to get all of us arrested! Besides, what about all of those _creatures_ that are still out there? Shouldn't we worry more about them?"

"It'll all be _fine_! Nothing's going to go wrong with this," Barry frowned and folded his arms. "Well, nothing _should_ go wrong." A worried look crossed his face, the plan was a little too simple now that he thought about it. Not that he would ever admit that. "It'll all be fine! As long as we stick to the plan..."

"That's _so_ very reassuring," Lisa snapped angrily in reply. "You're plan is awful! I don't really want to go to prison over that psycho!"

"We're not doing this for _her_ , we're trying to get your brothers memories back!"

Lisa rolled her eyes again, if she keeps that up she could win Olympic gold. "Is that really what you're telling yourself? Dammit, you're not even going to admit it to yourself are you?"

While the two argued, the other three people in the Cortex actively ignored them and pretended to be busy. Even Mick pretended to be doing something constructive by awkwardly holding an empty beaker and an equally empty Erlenmeyer flask. But that's not what's interesting right now, so let's get back to the squabble.

Barry stood stock still, silent with confusion for the first time since he and Lisa had started their little argument. "What the hell are you even talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, you know exactly what I'm talking about!" The gold obsessed villainess snapped back angrily at the hero. "Come on then, tell everyone in here why you're doing this, it's not just so you can help recover my brothers memories is it?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Barry sounded uncomfortable, and an awkward blush was rising on his cheeks. "You're wrong about that."

"Oh am I? Did you even _tell_ Lenny that you were planning on doing this?" Lisa sounded offended and quite irate at the idea of her brother being kept in the dark when the plan was centered around him. "Or did you just stop by the prison without him knowing?" She looked at the shocked expression on Barry's face and she laughed a little bit, sarcasm clear in her tone. "You did, didn't you? _That's_ why you dropped him off here earlier to sleep off his hangover, you wanted to run off and make your dumb little plan with Professor Providence!"

The speedster stepped close and spoke in hushed tones. "Look, I care about Len okay? I'm not doing this out of some sense of justice, I'm doing this because he's my friend! So I'm not doing this for myself, understand?" Barry looked down at the floor, not wanting the rest of the group to listen in. "I'm doing this for him."

Lisa stared incredulously, "are you kidding me?" She whispered angrily, also not wanting everyone else to hear the change in topic. "Is that _really_ what this is all about?" Her tone was laced with innuendo, she knew exactly why Barry was doing this, even if he refused to admit it.

"No, I don't know where you're getting these ideas, but I don't have some kind of-of ulterior motive going on here! I'm not trying to-to take advantage! I would never do that!" At least Barry didn't _think_ he had some sort of motive aside from helping someone he might care about as more than just an enemy… alright, so when you say it like that it sounds a little bit skeevy, but he swears it isn't. Well, he's not quite sure, but he'll deny it to the bitter end! "I swear on it, cross my heart!" Then again, you're not supposed to go drinking with your enemies, or then go get diner food with them. Well then, guess you can't say that they're enemies anymore.

"Well you better not be lying to me, your plan is already stupid enough without you getting all… _stupid_." Lisa wrinkled her nose, "you better be telling me the damn truth about this, Flash."

"I am, don't worry!" Barry grinned awkwardly, "I'm not being a creeper towards your brother, so it's all good. Besides, that's not what we were arguing about in the first place was it?" Obviously he didn't want to talk about his odd feelings for Lisa's brother, and he might as well bring up an argument to get out of lingering on that subject. "We should argue about the plan, not your brother."

"Yeah, we were yelling about your shitty plan," Lisa said, her tone no longer angry or harsh, but still carrying an underlying threat. "Look, the plan's not actually that bad, I just want to make sure you're not doing this for another reason." Her tone had sort of an intensive you-mess-with-my-brother-I'll-mess-up-your-entire-life vibe. Lisa Snart is not someone you want to mess with if you can ever avoid it.

The speedster stood awkwardly trying to come up with something to say, only to be interrupted by a loud *thud* from down the hall and an even louder shout of " _sonofafuckingbitch_!" Barry zoomed down the hall to find Captain Cold lying on his back on the floor, legs tangled in his blankets. The speedster looked down at the criminal, and Len just stared back up at him, a blank expression on his face. Barry struggled to keep back a grin, he hadn't been expecting this. "Uh, are you… are you alright down there Snart?"

"Just peachy." Len just continued to lie on the floor, staring back at the hero, not even making any sort of effort to get up. He continued, tone sarcastic. "I'm doing fine, how about you?" His face was still void of all expression, he seemed a bit shocked about what had happened to him. Either that or the floor was much more comfortable than expected. Barry looked away, giggling quietly under his breath. "I'm _-heh-_ I'm, yeah, I'm good. _Hahah_ , yep, all good."

"You better not be laughing at me from up there Barry."

"I'm not," Barry said, desperately trying to keep a straight face as he heard footsteps down the hall and Lisa rushed into the room behind the half-grinning speedster. "Cross my heart."

"Lenny, are you alright?!" Lisa dropped down to the floor, immediately right at her brother's side. "What the hell happened?"

"Oh not much, I just fell out of the bed. Other than that I'm perfectly fine." Len continued to stare up at the ceiling, the surprise of falling finally catching up to him. "Just leave me here Lisa, it'll all be good. I'll just have to live on the floor now." He grinned a little, it was funny, not that it gave Barry any excuse for laughing though.

Barry laughed loudly at the odd scene before him. He couldn't help it, it's not something you see often. Lisa turned and glared, not seeing any sort of reason for levity. "I'm so sorry, _haha_ , it's just so, _hehe_ , it's just so funny!" The speedster giggled throughout his half-assed apology, ruining any semblance of actually being sorry.

"This is _not_ funny!" Lisa frowned angrily, "you stop laughing right now!"

" _Hahaha_ , I'm sorry!" Barry slapped a hand over his mouth, stifling his laughter.

Captain Cold stared up at Barry, grin wide on his face, "you keep on laughing up there and I'll make sure you never laugh at anything again!" His tone was teasing, but not obviously so. Just teasing enough that you would have to be looking for it to notice.

"Sorry," Barry giggled, "it won't happen again!" He frowned a little, then continued, rambling, words rushing and tumbling over themselves, reaching levels close to superspeed. "Well, I can't actually promise that, but I'll try. I swear, I'll try really hard not to laugh at you butitsjustreallyfunnyandIcantpromiseanythingtoyourightnowSnart!"

"Wait, I didn't quite catch that, what was that last bit?" Len pushed himself up into a seated position and leaned against the side of the bed. "I'm serious, how did you talk so fast?"

"Super Speed," Barry said, reining back his powers. "One of the many perks."

Lisa turned back to Barry, her eyes narrowed and she stood carefully. It was obvious her brother was fine, but after everything that had happened the past week she didn't want to take any chances. "Barry, I'm going to need to talk to you in the hallway please?" She stepped out of the room and waited to be joined by the speedster.

"Ooh, you're in trouble," Len snarked, a wide grin spread across his face. "And when she's done with you, you can come back in here. I have something to say to you too."

*Providence Waits*

The room the therapist has been assigned is small, sparsely furnished. White paint still fresh enough to smell acidic and metallic. The only furniture is a small table and two chairs, the furniture is bolted to the floor. Wise decision. One of the chairs is occupied, and Candice walks across the room and seats herself across from her mandated therapist. Whoever this Gregory Salinger is, he looks…surprisingly average, but more of the Hollywood average. Bright blond hair, closely cropped, blue eyes. Caucasian, definitely an American, about six foot, maybe 197 to 200 pounds. Most definitely not a metahuman, no powers at all that she can identify. Lots of muscle, though, so at least he has that going for him. He doesn't look like the usual therapist type. He looks like he belongs in the Army, or working as some sort of security guard. Or maybe a mercenary. Boring. Candice grinned widely across the small table between them. The smile was gruesome to witness, showing far too many teeth and too much gum. The therapist just smiled knowingly in return, somehow not unnerved by the psychotic woman before him.

"So tell me, Candice, may I call you Candice?" He smiled serenely once more, not waiting for an answer, "so Candice, I'm not going to try and find out about your childhood, or your relationship with your mother and father. That would just be unnecessary and foolish. I'm going to start with the basics here, no bullshit." Salinger adjusted his notepad and pen, ready to write whatever he thought necessary. "Now then Candice, I've read through some of your history with therapy, a very intriguing read I might say, but I do have a few questions."

Professor Providence huffed out an indignant breath, she may have been to a few mandated therapy sessions, but she wouldn't consider it a history , nor was any of it anything important. "Well, what did you want to know about it all?" This was already boring her.

"Why was it you were you testing your theories on your coworkers?" An odd look crossed Salinger's face, this obviously wasn't something he was familiar with or comfortable discussing. "And don't tell me it's because they are all fools."

She sighed overdramatically, " but they are fools! I did it because the idiots wouldn't notice if the entire world burst into flames before their eyes! They're all just mindless drones! Empty shells waiting to be filled with my glory and power!"

"I see, I see," Salinger scribbled a quick note onto the paper. "And how is it you came to the conclusion that all people are simply, as you say, 'mindless drones?'"

"It's all pointless to try to explain! I'll put it as simply as I can: refusal to progress. The sheer idiocy. Their little rules and moral codes," she sneered. "Gah, they're all so dull, refusing to take a chance on something that could change the universe, simply because it's 'inhumane' or 'morally reprehensible, heinous and horrific.'" Her voice dripped with contempt, and hatred shone from her eyes. "The weak willed fools make me sick." The weak minded try to tear down the willful, but she will crush all opposition, her time is soon. "Why should I not try to make them better than they already are? I only desire perfection!"

Salinger scribbled down another note swiftly, for once looking worried about the mental health of the woman before him. "Well, that is… that is definitely a very strong opinion, and one that does arouse some concern."

"Really now, you don't say?" A wild grin spread across the villain's face, this was a good form of entertainment, at least from her perspective. "What else do you need to know?" Maybe terrorizing therapists might not be fun to most people, but Providence is definitely not most people. If you haven't figured it out by now, she's absolutely evil and insane.

"What exactly are your abilities? All your file said is, 'it's a weird mind control', can you perhaps be a bit more specific?"

Grinning maniacally, a glint of rage in her eye, she explained. "I place people into a mental labyrinth of my own design, showing them their worst fears, horrors beyond all explanation! Their wills are all so weak! They are no longer empty husks but become tools of my eternal glory!" Providence gestured grandly at herself. It would have been much more imposing were it not for the fact that she was wearing prison blues and shackles. "The moment they are faced with my brilliance they are slaves to my will, toys to entertain me!" Then again, the shackles might have made it more imposing if not for her height.

"Okay, very interesting, I'll just leave it how it is." The therapist cleared his throat awkwardly, and shuffled the paper in the notebook. "Now then, where exactly did you originally see yourself headed once you found out about your abilities?"

Providence glared in irritation, she had no need of a therapist. "The same as always I suppose, I wanted more than I already had." Nothing new in that aspect, she always wanted more. However, after finding herself with her ability, she had immediately sought out every possible way to increase her current status in the world.

"More of what exactly?" Salinger had a mildly concerned expression on his face, a simple downturn of the eyebrows signifying his anxiety. "What did you find yourself desiring the most?"

Providence scoffed internally, she could read this man like a blank coloring book. He had no idea what he was getting into. "Everything," she breathed. "Absolutely everything. I want it all! Knowledge. Money. Power. The entire World ." She grinned her unnerving grin once more, voice steadily rising in volume as she spoke, rising up to her feet as her rant escalated. "I want everything! I want to be a GOD, the world will kneel at my feet! The puny ants will accept me or they will perish! I am perfection and glory! I will RISE! I WILL TAKE WHAT IS MINE! I AM THE NEW ERA!" Shouting and rattling her shackles, she finished her tirade whilst standing upon the small table. Her arms raised high towards the ceiling, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

Salinger smiled calmly, no longer visibly concerned by the insanity woman standing on the table. "Well, that is certainly a very… _unique_ perspective to have upon gaining abilities, but you are entitled to your own beliefs." He checked his watch, trying to create an excuse to get out of the room as soon as possible. He's dealt with some extreme people, and dealt with some complete insanity, but this was just too much. "Well then, will you look at the time? Looks like we'll have to pick this back up next week!"

"Really now, time's up? Oh no, what a shame!" Providence briskly stepped down from the table and stood by the door of the office. "See you next week doc!" She rapped loudly on the white painted door, the sound echoing off the metal and through the small room. "Guard, take me back to my cell! We're done in here!"

*Providence Waits*

"What is this about?" Barry sounded a little confused, he knew what this was about, but he didn't know why Lisa needed to talk about this now.

"So you really are doing this just for him?" Lisa spoke in hushed tones, not wanting Len to hear them talking about him. "I'm glad that you're trying to help, I just don't want you to get his hopes up if this doesn't work out."

Barry crossed his arms and dropped his gaze to the floor, "I…" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing up the already rumpled brunette wave. "Look, I was wrong about why I was doing this, I thought it was just to help Len, but I just… I just don't know anymore." Whenever the hero thought of the criminal he felt this warm pressure in his chest, constricting like a vice. And he felt the stone of anxiety settle in his stomach, he was willing to admit it, he was nervous around him, scared to make mistakes. "I don't expect anything to happen because of this, but I don't know if I can keep pretending I don't feel anything."

Lisa stared, a knowing look on her face. "You're just now admitting this?" She smiled softly, she knew what this was all about. But she had to pretend she didn't approve, it's just a family thing. "You kept denying it earlier, but you're finally admitting it now?"

"Wait, what are you even talking about?"

"You idiot, even I can see how you look at Lenny, even if he can't." Lisa shook her head, "and the way that he looks back at you… Seriously though, are the two of you both blind?"

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Barry felt the stone of anxiety in the pit of his stomach dissolve into butterflies. Now he was anxious, but for an entirely different reason. "You're not messing with me, are you?"

"Why would I lie about this? I never said anything before now, but I really should have." Lisa smiled softly, before turning serious. "I'm glad you're finally figuring this out, but I'm only going to warn you once. You ever hurt him and I will kill you slowly and painfully." She smiled brightly once more, "now go talk to him you moron." Lisa shoved Barry back towards the door, and she turned back towards the Cortex. She had her own conversation to have with a certain medical doctor who had been there for her throughout the entire stressed filled week.

Back in the small room, Barry crossed the threshold slowly, his heart beating fast, well, faster than usual. Captain Cold had finally removed himself from the floor, and was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees. The older man was staring down at his hands, an odd expression on his face. Furrowed eyebrows and slightly downturned lips, he looked to be processing something he had heard or had thought of. Barry approached the bed slowly and sat to the right of the criminal, his left shoulder barely brushing the other man's right. The two of them sat in a calm silence, and minutes passed only interrupted by quiet breathing until Len spoke, voice barely louder than a whisper.

"I've been trying to find the right way to say this, but it's not something I'm used to saying." The quietness of his voice only amplified the importance of his words, and Len subconsciously leaned in a little closer to the speedster sitting next to him, "I wanted to say…" he paused and forced himself to continue. "I wanted to say 'thank you' for everything you've done for me the past week." Len turned to face the hero, not caring about the intimacy of the conversation, and still awkwardly avoiding eye contact. "This isn't something I say with sincerity very often, and it's just not something I'm used to saying. If you ever need anything Barry, I'm in your debt. I'll pay you back for this, swear on it." Len stared back at the floor, working up the courage to actually say the necessary words.

Barry smiled and softly placed his hand on Len's left shoulder, his arm resting on the criminals back. "Hey, you don't have to thank me, alright? I get it, Len. You don't owe me anything for this, and you don't ever have to pay me back."

"When did you start calling me Len?" Captain Cold looked oddly at the hero, a small smile on his face and a deep blush rising on the criminal's cheeks. "I don't mind, I just…hmm, I'll just say I appreciate not being called by my last name all the time." The nearness, the physical contact, the closeness and intimacy of the conversation and hearing his real name fall from the speedster's lips instead of just being called 'Captain Cold' or 'Snart.' It was so much more than he was prepared to handle. Usually he could distance himself from any situation, but the heat of the arm against his back kept him grounded and close to the moment.

"Well, you asked me to when you were…" Barry trailed off in the middle of his sentence, uncomfortable talking about what had happened in that small room when he had rescued Len. "The important thing is that it's something you asked me to do." The speedster lightly squeezed the criminals shoulder, a small sign of his feelings for the other man. And if it helped him pull Len just a little bit closer to him, well, that's just another upside to the action.

"Thanks Barry," Len unintentionally leaned into the contact, seeking the comfort given off from the hero's warmth. "I really mean it, thank you for everything. You've done so much to help me and I…" his sentence trailed off and Len stared back down at his hands, his cheeks were blushed bright red and a small smile was on his lips.

The hero felt a matching blush heat up on his cheekbones, "I get it, you don't have to thank me Len."

Len set a hand timidly on Barry's knee, he thought he was reading the situation right, but he wasn't sure until Barry squeezed his shoulder gently. "...I really do owe you for this Barry..."

Barry only smiled softly in return, this was… it was something good. This feeling, the feeling of familiarity, of such intimacy, it was good. And maybe it wouldn't be today, but maybe one day they could both move past the events of this past week and talk about what would come next for the two them. But for now it's as good a start as any, and it's something Barry could maybe find himself being comfortable with.

The two of them sat comfortably in the stillness and the silence of the small room, the hero's hand still settled on the criminal's shoulder, arm draped over his back. Shoulders pressed together, sharing closeness and warmth. This thing between them, this feeling… it was something new, something fresh and young. Something that could flourish, and it could be beautiful. 


	11. Murphy's Law

The plan was simple. Storm the Iron Heights Metahuman Wing. Distract the guards, escape back to STAR Labs with Professor Providence. Get Captain Cold his memories back. Return Providence to the prison before anyone notices. Everything goes back to the way it was before this whole mess started. All sounds easy enough, right? Right?!

NO! Wrong, all wrong! No, it really should have been easy, but it nothing ever goes right when you need it to do so. Everything always goes wrong the moment you ask 'what could go wrong?' What exactly went wrong? Who was to blame? Well, to put it simply, everything went wrong. Absolutely everything went to shit. And as to who was to blame, it was everyone's fault.

The plan had all been going just fine, Providence had had her cell unlocked remotely and had snuck out into the prison yard, and a disguised Barry had the guards distracted until one of the guards had the genius idea to open the high security and solitary confinement cell doors, unleashing the imprisoned powered people into the already occupied prison yard. Pure and simple human error. Almost always unavoidable, but always catastrophic. Over fifteen metahumans who had been without their powers for weeks, some for months, suddenly finding their powers coming back to them and their freedom within reach? Only the chainlink fence, the guards, and the main prison gates separated them from the outside world. Well, there was that, and then there were all of the regular human prisoners, so it was complete chaos out there.

Humans, metahumans, and all of the other non-meta's with powers were all running amok, some helping each other try to escape, some simply beating the shit out of each other. It just made sense in its own strange way. So much rage and frustration kept bottled up inside for so long just to be released in a surprise riot and breakout? There may be no reason for it, but this fighting wasn't senseless, the bare-knuckled brawling and power-driven rioting weren't at all meaningless, it was simply inevitable. Candice looked around, trying to see where her exit point was. Before the impromptu insanity, her 'rescuers' were going to sneak her out the main gates. She just had to get to the meeting point without being killed first. Easier said than done, right? She tittered a little bit as she ran, this was a lot more fun than she would have thought! Not that she did a lot of thinking about prison riots, but you get the gist of it. She dodged obstacles and zigged and zagged until she stood in the epicenter of the destruction. The eye of the storm. She spun slowly, taking in the spectacle before her.

God, the sound of the frenzy was unlike anything she had ever heard in her life. Loud booming of explosions, a chorus of shouting and screams of pain. The crack of lightning and the splash of hot tar. Hissing and fizzing of evaporating blood and water. It was magnificent, awe-inspiring. It was like something out of a twisted dream of a mental patient. That or a nightmare.

Tarpit, Fallout, and Weather Wizard had begun working in tandem to produce a veritable storm of flying irradiated asphalt. Most of the others were trying to avoid being killed by that. While Spin, Magenta, Double Down and Geomancer all seemed hellbent on beating the others to death, and nobody really wants to stop them. Doctor Alchemy, 'Eel' Madden and Trickster, none of them having any powers of their own, are sitting off to the side and Candice is pretty sure that they're making bets on who's going to live. Makes sense, none of them have their weapons or any of their tools so they might as well make the most of this and try to mind their own business. Well, they're either making bets or playing rock-paper-scissors, she's not sure which one is weirder. She's not going to stop and ask them what they're doing, she doesn't need to gamble with her life right now.

And while all of this was happening, Candice saw Blacksmith spinning in slow circles in the center of the yard, completely unworried by the destruction surrounding her. Small flecks of metals in the dirt rose up to surround her in a glittering haze of metallic bits. Blacksmith wasn't bothering anyone at all, though, she just seemed to enjoy having her powers back. At least there was one plus in the middle of this huge mess. Clouds of steam and streams of water rose up from the earth and Candice giggled as she rushed across the yard. She ducked and dodged the flying asphalt, soaring pieces of rock and soil, and angry fists. Much more fun to run for her life than she would have expected. She hunkered by the wall for a moment, the prison yard looked like a war zone. There was so much blood around her, streaked up the knuckles of the inmates and in puddles on the ground, slowly coagulating and soaking into the dried-out soil. Muddy soil, only instead of water it was slowly thickening blood. Twisted pieces of fence and pieces of steaming asphalt rained upon the ground, disrupting the previously smooth soil. Enormous chunks of earth were missing where they had been torn free to join the storm of flying asphalt. The prison yard was an unholy battlefield, jagged edges replacing previously smooth lines. A beautiful chaos, almost poetic insanity. The smell of blood and dirt, metal and electricity floated through the air. It's absolutely magnificent.

She scanned the fence and walls, looking for her exit point. Ah, there they were, on the other side of the fence! Why were they dressed like prison guards? Did they think they were blending in? Whatever, humans are weird. That doctor and the weird nerdy guy, she hadn't thought to learn their names. Ah well, it didn't matter right now, her escape was nigh, she had a way out of here, unlike all these other fools. Well, not all of them. Weather Wizard can fly, and if there's enough metal around so can Magenta. So they might escape as well, but she wouldn't be counting on it.

Candice carefully traversed the treacherous terrain, soon arriving at the fence. She turned to her pair of humans on the opposite side of the fence. "Well, how are you supposed to be getting me out of here, you imbeciles?"

"Ugh, do we have to help her Cisco?" Candice glared at the woman doctor, she could use her powers on her, but it would be a pointless exercise. Especially since she had no clue how their little plan was supposed to be working. Not that she would ever say such a thing of course. "I still think this is a terrible idea."

"Well Caitlin, we're already here aren't we?" The nerdy one was talking now, Candice didn't like how they were talking like she wasn't there. "Might as well go through with the plan. Besides, how often will we have the chance to stage an actual prison break?"

Professor Providence angrily interrupted the duo, "I don't really care what you mongoloids think and yes, you do have to help the individual with the ability to control your every thought and action." Candice gripped the chain link fence and shook it aggressively. "Now get to it you fools!"

"Geez, fine." Candice watched as the doctor and the one she had called Cisco worked in tandem with bolt cutters, clipping a small hole in the fence. Seriously, was that the entire plan? Just cut a damn hole in the fence? Candice rolled her eyes and slipped through the newly made exit. And it looks like they're not even going to close it up, guess they just have to hope none of the other prisoners noticed the FUCKING HOLE IN THE FENCE!? Just had to hope nobody decided to follow and FUCKING MURDER THEM?! It's not like they're surrounded by criminals! Candice just shook her head, it was so ridiculously simple. Just who came up with this plan? Was it thought up by a child? Not that it really mattered to her, she was out of the chaos, now they only needed to get past the main gate and the guardposts in between.

"We should probably try to stay in the shadows," the moment Cisco had finished his statement the bright beam of the searchlight shone down on the trio, instantly illuminating the entire area. "Well, shit."

***Providence Waits***

Cisco, Caitlin, and Professor Providence were running full tilt across the last stretch of ground, they had less than thirty seconds to reach the main gate before it closed completely, trapping them in the prison. The mix of flying bullets, pouring rain, and falling clods of earth were not helping their cause in the slightest, but the trio powered through it, minds on the single goal. Caitlin had taken the lead, followed by Providence and behind the two of them was Cisco, swearing angrily with each step, trying to keep his footing in the maelstrom. In almost no time at all they reached the gate, sliding through and running on towards freedom. There was the same car from last breakout idylling in the parking lot and Lisa Snart sat in the driver's seat, a frown on her face and gold gun in her hand. She glared as they approached, not happy about helping the woman who had caused this entire disaster in the first place. If it hadn't have been for Providence she could be robbing a bank right now, not having to waste time here.

The gold obsessed criminal leaned over and opened the front and back passenger doors, "Hurry the fuck up you morons!" She revved the engine loudly and glared as the trio rushed into the car, slamming the doors behind them. "Buckle up, you idiots!" she yelled as she sped away, gas pedal to the floor, the force of the takeoff laying down a solid quarter inch of rubber on the ground. There were guards already speeding towards their own patrol cars, and she could guarantee that police were already on their way. They just had to get ahead of the entire situation, take the back roads and alleyways.

"Why does it smell like bad Chinese food in here?" Cisco was clutching his pair of bolt cutters to his chest like a lifeline, "it smells like grease and bad chicken, like that place that was in the mall, you know, the one that had the rat problem? The Lucky Dragon, or something like that." Cisco continued to babble nervously as they sped through the streets back towards Central City and their destination of STAR Labs. "I mean, that place was just terrible, it was always bad. There was no reason it should have stayed open for so long. Then that guy stepped on the rat and it got even worse!"

Providence peered into the rearview mirror, catching the eye of Lisa who tried to ignore her unwanted associate. She grinned widely at the predictable reaction, humans are just so weird. She turned her gaze to the woman beside her, Caitlin was anxiously keeping an eye on the suspiciously empty road behind them, her own pair of bolt cutters on the seat next to her. There should be some sign of legal pursuit by now, maybe they managed to lose the cops already. Not likely, but fully possible, they were breaking quite a few highway regulations and possible some of the laws of physics. Providence eyed the bolt cutters on the seat, she could easily grab them and make a run for it, but it wouldn't really be advisable to jump out of a car while it's traveling at such high velocities. Then again, nothing about this entire endeavor was advisable, they tried it anyways and you saw how that turned out. Everything seemed to be going wrong the exact moment it was attempted. So she settled back into her seat and tried to tune out Cisco's inane babbling. He was talking about some new tech he had made, either that or he's ranting about Cool Ranch Doritos… at this point, she's not sure which. Meh, it could probably be worse. At least she had her powers back, weak though they may be. She'll be at full power by the time they get to STAR Labs. Then they'll see what she has in store for the city and the rest of the world.

Lisa glanced in the rearview mirror, catching the eye of the blonde doctor in the backseat. "Caitlin, tell me if you see any cops behind us. Everyone else can just keep their mouths shut, and yes, that includes you Cisco." Lisa shook her head, shifted gears and continued to accelerate, the black sedan reaching reckless speeds. Scenery flashed by at an insane rate, and the speedometer needle wobbled, unable to settle on a high enough speed. The drive back to STAR Labs would usually take fifteen to twenty minutes, Lisa hoped to do it in less than eight.

***Providence Waits***

Barry had already been back at STAR Labs for almost twenty minutes by the time the rest of the group pulled back into the parking lot. Well, if pacing at super speed and doing all of the cleaning in the building could count as him being back, he was back. He had done his part of the plan, and he just had to wait for the rest of them and hope nothing went wrong. However, judging from the newest news reports and the police scanner, something had gotten terribly out of hand.

The moment the black sedan pulled into the parking lot Barry was already out to its side, opening the door and pushing Professor Providence into STAR Labs. He just wanted to get this over with. Barry shoved Providence into the chair in the center of the room, "you know what I'm going to ask, so tell me the answer."

Providence made a dramatic show out of cleaning her glasses and checking her already immaculate nails for grime, knowing that slowing down such a simple task was sure to infuriate the high octane speedster. That and she was a little out of breath from her sudden transportation at such high velocity. "Ahem," she cleared her throat before beginning to answer. "Well Barry, my answer is obviously going to be 'yes,' as you were just _so_ very considerate. Going out of your way by breaking me out of prison? Such a rare kindness in these times." She leered disturbingly upon seeing the angry look on the hero's face and she settled back into the already uncomfortable chair. No chair could be worse than what they have in the prison. Providence cracked her knuckles and kicked her feet up onto the closest tabletop. "Just bring out that criminal you're so obsessed with and let me do my thing."

A rush of air carried Barry down the hall, he would be back in about thirty seconds without using his speed. Providence raised her hands and held her palms parallel to the floor, she could feel the life of her creations, she could almost hear them thinking. A wild grin spread across her face, soon would be the rising of madness.

"Get your feet off the damn desk!" Lisa smacked Providence's feet off the desk, slamming them back onto the floor. "I'm not happy that I had to help you in the first place, so don't test me." Caitlin and Cisco stood awkwardly behind her, trying not to laugh at the look of surprise on Providence's face.

Providence glared up at the trio before speaking. "Oh I wouldn't ever dream of it," Providence said as she rocked back in the chair, kicking her feet back onto the table. "I wouldn't dare to think of trying to cross you, you're far too threatening."

"Don't be a bitch," Lisa crossed her arms in irritation. "Barry might need your help now, but I have absolutely no problem with encasing you in fucking gold and selling you to the highest bidder."

Providence sneered in response, and she gestured dramatically towards herself. "See? You're so intimidating, I'm just shaking in my jumpsuit!"

Lisa tried to unholster her gold gun, only to be stopped by Caitlin's hand landing on her wrist, "she's not worth it." The doctor looked deep into the eyes of the dangerous gun toting criminal. "You don't even want to kill her."

"I know, but she's trying to piss me off!" Lisa stared back at Caitlin, staring long enough to make everyone else uncomfortable. "I'll keep calm as long as she doesn't try to rile me up anymore."

"That's great," Caitlin still hadn't removed her hand from Lisa's wrist, instead continuing her hold. "I'm proud of you for trying."

Providence raised an eyebrow, this was an interesting development, maybe it could be of use later. But it was doubtful, humans are so dim.

The sound of Barry's voice drifted through the doorway before the speedster and criminal stepped across the threshold. "So, you know how I said the team came up with a plan to get your memory from the past week back, well-"

Providence grinned widely and waved casually at the hero and villain the moment they entered the room. "Hello again Cold, just great to see you!"

Len looked a little confused at the unassuming figure with their feet up in the middle of the room. He was still wearing his civilian clothes, his cold gun holstered to his hip. "Wait, she's the one who kidnapped me?"

"What? Let me guess, you don't think I'm dangerous?" Providence rolled her eyes and sneered, "looks can be quite deceiving you know! I thought you would have been a useful acquisition, but all you insects know how that panned out."

"If you're the one who fucked with my head in the first place why are you going to help me?" Len frowned, this situation just made no sense, Cisco was hiding behind Lisa and looked terrified, and why the hell was Lisa holding Caitlin's hand?!

"Oh no, I'm not helping _you_ , my dear Captain Cold. I'm helping myself." Providence crossed her hands behind her head, "I give you your insignificant memories back, I get some time out of Iron Heights, win-win situation." She jumped to her feet in one sudden movement, "now, let's get to it shall we?"

Len anxiously looked around to the people around him, there wasn't a high risk in doing this so he might as well. Those missing memories had been bothering him ever since he had gotten out of his coma. "Well, I might as well, it's the only real way to get my memories back isn't it?"

"Of course it is," Providence pushed Len into her vacated chair and peered into his eyes, laughing silently at his surprised expression. "Now sit down, shut up, and let me work."

Barry stayed near the doorway as Cisco, Caitlin and Lisa grouped around him, Lisa glaring at the madwoman in the center of the room, keeping her hand on the grip of her gun even with Caitlin's hand still on her wrist. She had no reason to believe any of Providence's promises and she had all the reasons in the world to be suspicious of her intentions. Team Flash might believe her, but she never would believe someone who had so little regard for human life. Especially the life of her brother.

She watched as Professor Providence placed her blood-red tipped fingers against Len's temples, and Lisa stared in shock as they glowed ever so slightly. The psychopath's eyes glowed with an inhuman power, and Lisa tightened her grip on her gun in response. But as soon as it had started it was done, Len jumping out of his chair, casting it across the floor and shoving Professor Providence back into the center of the room in his shock. "You bitch!" Len drew out his cold gun in record time, prepared to fire at the slightest provocation. "You have something planned, why the fuck are you really doing this?"

The rest of the group prepared for a fight, Lisa drawing her own gun and Team Flash ready for action. Providence grinned from her new seat on the floor, "why Cold I'm shocked! Why on earth would you think I have some sort of diabolical plan?"

"Because I remember what kind of person you are, you twisted _freak_!" Len kept the cold gun trained on Providence and he looked back to the rest for support. "She's got something planned, I know it!"

The moment Len had said the word ' _freak_ ,' Providence had gone still. Silently she stood, radiating power and anger. " _ **What**_ **did you call me?"** Her face was hidden in an unnatural shadow, and her fists were clenched tight. " **You irreverent SCUM!"** She glared up at the people around her, eyes glowing behind the horn-rimmed glasses. Waves of her anger crested and broke, and the very earth seemed to tremble in fear. " **How dare you even** _ **speak**_ **to a God? The time of humans is over! Earth shall be mine for the taking! The time for cleansing is nigh! PARAGON SHALL RISE!"**


	12. The All-in, Book Win

The entire city is shaking, whatever it was that Professor Providence had done was tearing Central City apart. Inside STAR Labs the situation was quickly escalating, with Providence fending off attacks from both the Snart siblings and the members of Team Flash. Something wasn't right, the amount of effort being put into the attacks should have Providence flat on her ass and back to the prison in no time, but she was gaining strength somehow. Something was very different from the last fight, and everyone knew it.

Providence took a strong swipe at the nearest attacker, blood red nails dragging across skin and sending Lisa flying across the room, crashing through the laboratory equipment. Caitlin dashed to her side, gently helping her up. "Are you alright?"

Lisa shook her head slightly, gingerly holding her scratched cheek. Thankfully she wasn't bleeding much. "I'm going to be a little sore later, but I'm fine."

" **You puny insects will all pay for your insolence! Paragon has risen!"** The madwoman ran at her top speed out of STAR Labs, everyone else giving chase until they slowed to a stop, staring up they saw exactly what Providence had done. Some.. THING was in the wreckage of the parking lot, whatever it was, the proportions were all wrong. It had far too many arms, too many heads, too many legs and the joints in said legs took disturbing turns. Multi-ended tails thrashed the air, almost lacerating the very atoms with their skin was a complex mottled green/grey with odd protrusions, like spoilt milk that had been sitting in the refrigerator for a few months. Lumpy and gross. Fangs grew from beneath spit-slimed lips, jagged and sharp. With its every breath a stench of toxic, rotting meat washed over everything, and a sickening red tongue hung out of its cavernous maw. It lifted three of its mangled and twisted heads towards the sky, letting loose a multi-tonal powerful screech, the entire city shaking from the immense force. A clawed hand slammed the ground, and one of its twisted heads was almost instantly at the level of humans, dozens of yellow eyes focusing on the tiny creatures before it. The creature had huge gaps in its skin, Giant fissures and lacerations, white bone and red muscle showing through the injuries. There was the stench of death in the air, and the atmosphere tingled with the feeling of dread. It was already dying, but it had one last goal before it ventured into the great unknown of death. Paragon knew only that they had to make all of this right.

"What the hell is that thing?" Barry tried to keep himself between the creature and the people behind him, he didn't want to risk anything. "Providence, what have you done?"

" **Oh, I haven't done anything at all Flash, they did it all themselves!"** Providence grinned, walking slowly up to the creature before her. " **Aren't they just perfect? My most beautiful creation..."** The psychopath placed a hand on the mottled flesh of the beast. " **Absolutely amazing, aren't they?"**

"I don't know what you think beautiful means, but I don't think that THING is beautiful. Like, at all." Cisco had a good point, it was really gross. Too many limbs, too many heads, the thing smelled weird, it was just all wrong.

The creature made eye contact with its creator the best it could, and a malformed hand snatched Providence into the air. The creature spoke, its voice reverberating from all the flat surfaces, rumbling up from the earth itself.

" _ **What is my Purpose?"**_

Providence shrugged, nonchalant about the fact she was hundreds of feet above the ground, gripped by a creature she had created with no reason. " **You're the ultimate testament to my accomplishments, my greatest and grandest achievement!"** She gestured to the city below, the simple people looking up in terror at the beast before them. " **Look at them! Look at how they scurry around, wasting away their entire lives in the human rat race. They're just simple insects, never able to reach the heights of the Gods!"**

" _ **And are you a God?"**_

" **I'm the closest thing to it!"** Providence was angry, her creature wasn't obeying her as expected. The plan was breaking down. " **Do you think any of this so-called heroes could ever do anything close to what I have done?"**

Paragon appeared to briefly consider this, a few dozen sets of yellow eyes blinking slowly out of sync. The beast then snapped out a black clawed hand and grabbed the closest person to them. Barry was stunned by the speed of this lumbering creature, and he struggled in vain against the clawed hand. Paragon turned a heavy head towards its new captive.

" _ **What is your intended Purpose?"**_

"Humans don't have an 'intended purpose!'" Paragon shook its closed fist angrily, rattling the speedsters brain into a dizzy scramble. Barry stopped struggling against the black claws and raised his hands up in surrender, not wanting to anger the beast. "Look, I don't know what it is that you want, but I'm not going to try and hurt you."

The creature snarled in irritation, that was not the answer they had wanted. They tightened their grip on the speedster, there was an audible crack of at least two ribs. A deep growl rumbled through the city, Paragon spoke again.

" _ **What is your Function?"**_

Barry coughed weakly before responding, "people don't have a _function_! That's not the purpose of living!" Paragon loosened their grip before pulling the speedster close into their gaze. Sulphurous yellow eyes stared into the hero's own. The rest of the world seemed to fade into darkness and Paragon spoke once more.

" _ **What is the Purpose of Living?"**_

A thrown rock smacked against one of Paragon's heads, directing their gaze to the human who had cast the stone. Rumbling of rock and a sweep of the tails showed their irritation before they turned their attention back to the captive speedster. They closed their claws tighter, hoping to elicit some sort of response.

" _ **What is the Purpose of Living?"**_

Barry fought against the steadily tightening claws the best he could, like an ant trying to halt a runaway freight train. His lungs felt as if they were going to burst, and he faintly heard the yelling of the people in the parking lot below, they were trying to free him to no avail.

Providence laughed hysterically at the new developments, this was so much more than she could have ever asked for. " **Their purpose is to serve! Don't deny it, Flash, that's the entire point of it all!"**

" _ **No."**_

" **What?"** Providence sounded surprised, an odd look gracing her easily forgettable features. " **What do you mean by** ' _ **No**_ **?'"**

Barry coughed up a thin stream of blood, he had a few cracked ribs and a punctured lung, but he could feel it all healing already. The grip of the beast loosened as if it knew he was injured. "I think they mean that you're wrong, Providence, you're wrong about the purpose of living, you've been wrong about everything!"

"Stop lying! I'm never wrong!" Providence angrily punched the clawed hand holding her aloft, not seeming to care if she dropped to her death. Her voice had lost the layers of power behind it, she honestly sounded shocked that she might have been wrong. "I'm a GOD! A God is never wrong!" She almost sounded scared, but she continued to rage instead of losing face in front of the enemy. "I'm not wrong! I'm right! I'm right ! I'M RIGHT!"

Far below them, the rest of the group tried fruitlessly to save Barry from the clutches of the beast but to limited success. Chunks of ice fell away from the creature as soon as they froze, hunks of flesh and shards of bone falling away in their wake. Blasts of gold solidified joints and limbs, only to crumble into golden dust. They were certainly not yet winning, but they were making a difference. Black blood was gushing from each wound, and the stench of death grew stronger with every pull of the trigger.

Paragon didn't try to fight back, they now knew their purpose.

Death.

The inevitable darkness and silence.

The beast steeled itself, knowing they had to die for the rest of the world to continue living. If they did not die, then they would kill the world. But before that was to happen they still needed answers.

" _ **What is the meaning of life?"**_

The speedster struggled to come to an answer, he was a hero, not a philosopher. "That's… that's a complex line of questioning." He frowned in confusion, "why are you asking me this? I'm not the best person to answer this."

Providence almost growled in rage,"it's not complex at all! Humans are meant to serve!" She pathetically slapped at the clawed hand she was held in, perhaps subconsciously she hoped to drop to her death to avoid the shame of being wrong. "Humanity is meant to break, to be held captive! To serve my every possible whim!"

Paragon ignored the angry ranting of its creator, keeping their attention on the captive speedster. The voice rumbled through the earth once more, introspective questions posed by a naive genius.

" _ **And what happens once you die?"**_

Barry blinked in surprise, that was not a question he had been expecting. "Well, there's a lot of different beliefs on-

"NOTHING HAPPENS AFTER YOU DIE!" Providence angrily shouted from her respective hand. "THE PURPOSE OF LIFE IS DEATH, THERE IS NO DEEPER MEANING! DEATH IS THE ULTIMATE END! YOU ARE ALL NOTHING!"

A blast of ice shot past Professor Providence, silencing her rant and freezing half of one of Paragon's heads. Thick slabs of skin and muscle slid off the beast's skull, leaving icy tendons and shattered bone in its wake. Immediately a roar of pain and confusion rattled from the creature's many throats.

Crowds of police officers had surrounded the group, bullets ricocheting off the beast's thick skin. The bullets that hit the gaping, open wounds sunk into the exposed flesh with a sick * _thuck_ * sound. Black vans skidded to a halt, dozens of SWAT team members armed to the teeth with semi-automatic weapons poured out of each of the vans.

A smug looking woman in a cheap brown suit, wielding an implausibly large megaphone, stepped up with a false sense of superiority and importance. Goddamn hostage negotiators. Huge fucking egos, worse than professional musicians. Seeing as neither Barry nor Providence were actually hostages so the police had no reason to send a negotiator, but did they call to verify the situation? No, they didn't. But anyways, back to the story at hand.

A grungy, rusty, beater pulled up behind the SWAT vans, Mick jumping out and running towards the insanity, gun already drawn and at the ready. It looked like he was asking Lisa something, but Barry couldn't be sure from this height. The negotiator was speaking to Caitlin and Cisco as the storm of bullets continued to rain down on the creature. Providence looked deep into the eyes of her creation and read the meaning hidden in the yellow. They both knew what they had to do to end this chaos. Neither of them had gotten what they wanted out of this, the only thing they had accomplished was causing more suffering in a world already full of pain.

Paragon seemed to frown apologetically through their fangs, and they gently set Barry back on the ground, somehow avoiding all of the flying bullets. Another blast of ice slashed across the beast's chest followed quickly by a bolt of gold and a blast of searing heat. Black blood poured from the wound, cascading across the pavement like a perverse river, flowing currents of death instead of life. A loud roar of pain echoed through the city, rattling the building on their foundations, yet still, Paragon did not attempt to defend or protect themselves.

Providence was raised higher, caught in a mental conversation with her creation. The two of them had something planned, and whatever it was would have to happen soon. With amazing speed and surprising grace, the creature leapt over the surrounding crowd, fire and lightning streaking in their wake. An echoing warning floated behind long after they had disappeared.

" _ **Please do not follow."**_

***Providence Waits***

The field they were in was much further than Paragon had intended to flee, but it would work for its intended purpose. They couldn't have any unwanted casualties. A storm of lightning and fire surrounded the beast and its creator, yet the two remained untouched in the epicenter of the tempest. Providence knew what was expected, what she had to do, but she didn't want to go through with this. She didn't _want_ to die. Sure, Paragon hadn't said she would have to die, but she knew how their plan would play out.

Die to save the world, need your creator to promise to not create another mutant army. Creator refuses, also must die. Simple really, she had to commend Paragon on that. Well, except for the part about her death.

She really didn't want to die.

All she had wanted in the beginning was to be a God, but now… now she didn't know if she had even really wanted that. All of her powers, her intellect, her creations, everything she had accomplished, all of that was for naught. She had no true purpose, no reason to keep going.

She understood why Paragon needed them both to die. She had looked through their memories and seen what they had seen. The entire history of humanity, and she hadn't contributed to the positive side in the slightest. She had only caused suffering and pain. People wouldn't remember Candice Providence, inventor, researcher, microbiologist and nano technician. They wouldn't remember her accomplishments and contributions. The world would only remember 'Professor Providence,' criminal mastermind, evil genius, villain.

" _ **Are you prepared for this?"**_

Paragon was her only real contribution. Look where that had gotten her, an empty field surrounded by wind, fire, and lightning, preparing to die. She truly wished she was prepared for this, but death is not something you can ever prepare for.

"Prepared as I'm ever going to be," she steeled herself, standing tall on the palm of her dying creation. "Let's get this over with quickly." She placed a flat palm against Paragon's thumb, feeling the life force of the dying beast intertwined with her own power. She just had to pull the old power back into herself, unraveling Paragon's DNA and overloading her own abilities. Not exactly a murder-suicide, but close enough to it.

She looked into Paragon's fading yellow eyes, "last chance to back out of this… no? Alright then..."

She pulled in a deep breath, exhaling shakily. She felt her power reach out and pull back, like a hidden riptide, the current of energy pulling her under before she could even begin think of what she was doing. It was a fierce lightning storm, fueled by rage and sorrow. Dancing flames burning up all of the negative feelings she had ever held towards all of humanity. Her entire life was laid out before her, a tapestry of misguided anger and hatred. The entire history of herself written in a single moment. One grain of sand in the beaches of time.

The memories of Paragon leeched into her own, colors blending and bleeding in ways unfathomed by humanity. It was beautiful. Is this what dying was? Dying had never seemed so... beautiful. Death had always seemed to be something intangible, something to be feared and respected, not something to actually _want_.

Around the fading duo, the storm raged on, flames turning black and lightning crackling white-hot. Winds whipped the very earth, dirt flying into the storm. In the center of the chaos was only death, Paragon's body falling to pieces, muscle, skin, and bone crumbling into the dirt, black blood soaking into the soil. Providence herself was nothing more than an empty shell, something she had so long accused all of humanity of being.

It was all over. The reign of the New God was done before it had even started.

***Providence Waits***

 _"You're at the location where people said they went, what's out there?"_

"It's just an empty field with a pile of dirt, no, it's not dirt, it's ash- wait, there's more…" Barry was on the comms with the rest of Team Flash, it had been almost two days since the whole Paragon incident. News outlets had called it the 'Paragon of Chaos.' Damn sensationalist media. The entire city was still in shock over the localized storms and earthquakes, trying to rebuild after everything would take some time. News had come to light about Professor Providence's involvement in the insanity and the entire city now knew where all of the missing people had gone the past nine months. At least they have closure.

 _"What else do you see out there, Barry?"_ Cisco's voice came through with a bit of static, the comms had some minor interference, probably residual electrical charge in the soil. " _Any idea what happened out there?"_

Barry was distracted as he walked carefully over the scorched earth, the criminals that had become an almost constant presence the last few days had up and vanished as soon as the police had pulled out of STAR Labs parking lot. No explanation, no messages, only a piece of paper in the middle of the lab with an address scribbled on it. Barry had grabbed that before anyone else had seen it. Anyways, back to the investigation.

The dirt had crystallized into a solid circle of smooth glass, a high silica content in the soil made for a nice, solid, finish on the glass. The entire field was intact except for the circle of melted dirt and the burnt grass on the edges of said circle. "There was enough heat here to melt the ground, some kind of electrical discharge." He stepped into the high rising pile of ash, "something burned out here, something big. Looks like there's a dead body out here, it's definitely been here a while but there's almost no decay… huh, that's weird, they look familiar." The Flash stumbled to a halt in the center of the field, looking down at the cold, grey, corpse. "Guys, it's Professor Providence."

" _What? Cisco, give me the damn mic."_ There was a scratching sound in the comms, and Caitlin's voice came crackling through the tiny speakers. " _Barry, is there any sign of a struggle? Any defensive wounds? Are you able to tell when this happened?"_

"It looks like it happened right after they left, the ground is melted, there are scorch marks, looks like they're from lightning," Barry crouched next to the dead body, examining the hands of the dead woman. Lucky for him the Flash Suit had thick gloves, no chance to leave any prints behind. "There's some scorching on the hands, maybe some kind of power feedback."

He stood up slowly, careful not to disturb the pile of ash, "we should really call this in, I can do more to figure this out as plain old Barry Allen."

" _Well, we should call this in, but you don't really have to figure this out, Barry."_ Cisco was back on the comms, the static still there behind his voice. " _Joe said the detectives found some files in a locked safe in her mad-lab. You should get back here before the cops get there."_

"Good plan, going dark until I get back." Barry switched off the comms, he had to make a quick detour before he went back to STAR Labs.

He set off at a leisurely, for him anyway, pace, speeding home to change and then winding up on the stairwell of a small apartment in the middle of downtown Central City. A solid wave of air caught up with him no more than a second later, rattling the plain door in front of him. Barry knocked tentatively, he wasn't sure how the conversation would go, but he knew for sure that it would be amazingly awkward and uncomfortable for the both of them.

Something along the lines of " _hey, why'd you run off ? Is it because you remember everything that happened when I came to rescue you? Or is it because of this whole newly forming romance thing?"_

The door swung open with a * _click_ * and there stood Leonard Snart, obviously not expecting any visitors due to the fact that he was wearing what appeared to be pajamas covered in little snowflakes.

"Barry? What are you doing here?"

Barry grinned awkwardly, "I was, I wanted to talk to you about the whole…" He gestured between the two of them, obvious with his meaning. "Well, that and to check up on you."

Len blushed fiercely, backing away from the door. "Yeah, um, come on in."

"Thanks." Barry stepped across the threshold, carefully maintaining a reasonable distance from his, definitely not enemy. Friend? More-than-friends? Definitely not quite lovers, nor were they boyfriends. But that could still change. "Nice pajamas."

The red blush on Len's cheeks deepened, "they were a gift…" He looked Barry in the eye and looked back to the floor just as quickly. "I've been figuring out all the memories I've gotten back, and I wanted to apologize."

"What for?" barry knew exactly why he wanted to apologize, but this was pretty funny. "For sitting on you and for singing when you came to rescue me." He couldn't look Barry in the eyes, it was just too embarrassing. "And for refusing to believe you about it."

Barry laughed a little at that, "it's no problem, I wouldn't have believed me either."

Len smiled, leaning in a little closer to the speedster. "I should really thank you properly for this." A mischievous smirk played across his lips and he continued to lean in.

"I'm going to have to take you up on that offer." Barry leaned in, pressing his lips against the criminals in a soft kiss. Len's lips were surprisingly soft and warm. Barry moved closer still, his hands moving of their own accord, one settling at the back of Len's neck, the other on his hip.

The two continued, deepening the kiss before breaking apart, both of them out of breath.

"I think that was the best 'thank you' that I've ever gotten." Barry smiled fondly at the other man in his arms, noticing not for the first time just how attractive he was. "I just might have to thank you for that."

Len chuckled, content to stay wrapped in the speedsters arms. "I should give you my phone number so we can make this a regular thing."

Barry grinned and moved in for another kiss. "No need, you put it in my phone when you were drunk."

***End***


End file.
